Heirs to the Fellowship
by BIG Z1776
Summary: To be the children of heroes is a tall order. To be children of heroes and on a first quest is harder still. The great kings and lords of the dawn of the 4th Age have created a mythos that they have to live up to, and an ancient power is looking to challenge it. The first great test of the heirs of Gondor and Rohan shall spawn a new chapter in the history of Middle Earth.
1. Chapter 1

**Well I decided to redo this story, making a few adjustments to it in order to make it a bit better, hopefully. I really do enjoy this brand of sword-swinging fantasy adventure like LOTR is at its core. And this was the first attempt I made at it, so I decided to give this one another shot after a long time leaving it alone. With some luck, I can turn this into one of the stories I can look at with pride and feel that I made it a helluva story with good characters and good settings and great action. Let's see what a few years of additional experience has done for that.**

 **Also, I know I haven't updated A Brutal Reality in some time, I burned myself out on that story and I'm taking a break so that I'm not churning out content for it because I have to. That story deserves better, I need a fresh mind when working on it, for that I am shaking things up with this and my current favorite, Soldiers of the Republic.**

 **As usual for some of my stories I have people whom I base the looks off for my characters.**

 **Eldarion: Richard Madden (I loved him as Robb Stark and I think he never was able to do that character the justice he deserved due to the plot)**

 **Eolyn: Chloe Grace Moretz (She's got the right kind of spunk a princess of Rohan would have, plus she and William Moseley could be cast together as siblings.)**

 **Eoden: William Moseley (He was great in Narnia, and has the right look to be a prince of Rohan.)**

 **Borothir: Kit Harrington (He's Jon Snow, need I say more? Also, he is (GoT SPOILER ALERT!) the nephew of a character played by Sean Bean in GoT, it makes sense for him to be the son of Faramir and nephew of Boromir)**

Chapter 1

Minas Tirith, Capital City of Gondor

Minas Tirith, White City of Gondor, the City of Kings, it was known by many names. But each name was for the same majestic and powerful city that stood overlooking Pellenor Fields and the rebuilt and flourishing city of Osgiliath. From here, the great king of the Reunited Kingdom, Elessar, ruled over both Gondor and Arnor. Under Aragorn's rule the Kingdom of Gondor had risen once more into prominence, the Harad of the South had been defeated, the Corsairs of Umbar had been conquered, the province of Enedwaith had been restored to Gondor and thus Gondor's borders had been restored to their once great stretches. Ithilien had once more returned to its once great self with the evils of Sauron gone and his Orc armies wiped out and had greatly rebuilt. The Steward of Gondor, Faramir son of Denethor, was granted the Princedom of Ithilien and he ruled from Emyn Arnen at a great estate where he had settled with his wife, Eowyn, colloquially known as the White Lady of Ithilien and Shield Maiden of Pellenor Fields. She had maintained her own hereditary title as a Shield Maiden of Rohan and no one dared questioned her on it, after all she had been the one to kill the feared Witch King of Angmar.

The lands of Gondor had welcomed back peace and had prospered. Great fleets of merchant ships sailed North to Arnor and Lindor had brought vast wealth to Gondor while the mighty Hulks of Gondor's Navy watched over them and their precious cargoes. The city of Pelargir flourished with this newfound wealth from trade now free from the menace of the Corsairs of Umbar.

The prosperity of Gondor's lands and peoples were not the only growth the kingdom saw. A new growth of the royal house of Telcontar had seen its king and queen become father and mother. The first-born of Aragorn's children, Eldarion, had grown into a handsome crown prince, and three daughters had inherited the legendary beauty of their Elven mother. The family was happy and thriving in the conditions of prosperity that peace had set forth for them. And so was all Middle Earth.

Gondor's prosperity was not the only such case to be had among the Kingdoms of Men. Rohan, under the rule of its new king, Eomer son of Eomund, had reaped the harvest of an uninterrupted peace by rebuilding its villages and towns and by farming the fertile soil of the Riddermark. Trade with the newly resettled Dwarves of Moria and the Reunited Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor had brought a new city into being where Isengard once stood as a menace but reborn as a symbol of progress, naming it Northmark. The fortress of Rohan, Helm's Deep had gone through its own unique transformation with the settling of a colony of Dwarves led by Gimli, son of Gloin. Great wealth poured from the Glittering Caves and fine craftsmen gifted Minas Tirith with a new steel gate, and a new great stone wall for Edoras. Fine goods, tools, weapons, and armor were forged there, and sold or traded across Middle Earth going as far as Erebor and the men of the Kingdom of Dale.

In the middle of all this was the Shire, land of the Hobbits, home of the famed Ring bearers. This small land had hardly changed since the War of the Ring had ended. The Hobbits lived as care free as ever, with Peregrin Took leading them as Thain of the Shire. The Hobbits still didn't have any army, no dreams of glory in battle or adventure, and no intention of changing the way they lived day in day out. But the Great War had taught their leader that not even the faraway Shire was immune to the evils of war. The Hobbits still maintained that they had no intention of becoming a warrior people and fought Pippin every step of the way as he encouraged the Hobbits to be better prepared for conflict. The Shire had been invaded by a group of Ruffians led by Saruman after he'd escaped Isengard and was only taken back through force of arms. To keep this from ever happening again Pippin tried making a part time force of militia, called the Guards of the Shire. Although all they were was a poorly trained militia with fine armor and weapons made in the forges of Moria and the Glittering Caves.

Yet, through all this prosperity, one date brought the people of Middle Earth together every year in celebration, the Anniversary of the End of the War of the Ring. This annual celebration was a constant reminder of the triumph over evil by the Free Peoples of Middle Earth. On every occasion Minas Tirith became the greatest concentration of royalty and lordship in all Middle Earth. The Kings of Gondor, Rohan, Erebor, the Iron Hills, Moria, Dale, the Mirkwood, and the Thain of the Hobbits all gathered to celebrate and remember old times. There were Men, Dwarves, a few Hobbits, and even a few of the last Elves to remain in Middle Earth gathered in the Merethrond to commemorate this historic day. The sound of music echoed from the great hall as all present enjoyed themselves.

Within the fine hall of polished marble, gold and silver décor and black floor emblazoned with seal of Gondor was Aragorn seated at his table as he watched the party. Around the hall stood, walked, or danced the several dozen noble and royal guests present at the celebration. At each of the thirty marble pillars stood at rigid attention a fully armored Guard of the Citadel, with spear and shield in hand. These men were the elite of Gondor's Army, and had taken individual oaths of loyalty to the king sitting at the table in the very front of the great hall beside his wife and queen. His hair had not yet begun to gray, his face still retained the strength that had made him the greatest king of Gondor since Elendil who founded the great kingdom. Beside him sat his Elven wife and Queen, Arwen, who had literally not changed at all in her appearance aside from the trappings of a Queen. She wore the delicate silver and gold crown on her head as she watched their guests, and their son, Eldarion.

"He has taken to looking much like his father," a familiar voice called out from Aragorn's left.

Aragorn calmly turned and saw the blonde hair and goatee and royal robes of Eomer. In his hand he held a glass cup of wine. He wasn't wearing his crown like most of the royalty in the room, including Aragorn.

"Yes so everyone tells me," Aragorn replied, smiling at his friend, "Eoden too has taken to looking like his father."

"No, I think that my son takes more from his grandfather," Eomer replied, "And Eolyn takes more from her mother. Alas, I think that I may need another son, I can't have these good looks go without someone to carry them on."

"Indeed, at least we have sons to carry on our names to lead our people once we are gone," Aragorn said tactfully.

"Yes, our bloodlines are secure. But, neither of our sons has yet to see combat, much less lead men into battle. It is something of a concern."

"Hopefully they never have to," Aragorn calmly and wisely stated, patting his friend on the shoulder.

"Of course," Eomer nodded, knowing full well that he didn't want his son to experience what he had experienced during his own youth fighting the evils of Sauron and Saruman. After knocking back the last of his wine he turned to Aragorn and quietly spoke, "I take it we will be announcing the engagement of Eldarion and Eolyn soon?"

"Yes, once the feast has begun. First I believe we should try and further acquaint my son and your daughter. It may not strike their fancy unless they know one another a bit better."

"I agree, knowing my daughter she will either hate me for all time or be elated. I have heard her chamber maids speak of Eldarion to her before and she has heard her brother's stories of his and Eldarion's adventures in Ithilien and the Riddermark with Borothir."

"I don't know how my son shall react, he has always been rather independent. So an arranged marriage may not sit well with him. But I do believe he will not protest openly," Aragorn stated.

"It does not sit well with me either my love," Arwen interjected, "I do not see the need for an arranged marriage. It will be unfair to the children, we married for love, as did you King Eomer. What message will that send to them?"

"My love, it is what is best for our kingdoms. A marriage with a Prince of Gondor and a Princess of Rohan will forever seal the bond of friendship between us."

"Is it worth it that your son will not marry one whom he has loved? Is it fair to your daughter?"

"Your highness," Eomer quietly responded, "This is not a decision that was reached overnight. I did not agree to this for myself, I did it for my country."

"And I did it for mine," Aragorn said as well, "Besides, who are we to say that they will not love one another? For all we know it is destiny that this could bring about their love for one another."

"What if it isn't?"

Aragorn and Eomer stood in silence as they thought about it. This was something that was not easy for them as fathers. Nor was it easy for them to deal with their wives and thus the mothers of the soon to be betrothed about this delicate situation. But their decision was made, and there was no turning back.

"I think we should introduce them to each other now, plant the seed and hope it grows," Eomer said.

"Yes, I will bring Eldarion to go the Courtyard. Why don't you bring Eolyn and I can have my son give your daughter a tour of the Citadel. If there is one thing I know about him it's that he will take her everywhere, which gives them time to talk."

"Very well, let us have them meet in five minutes, and from there, hope for the best."

Eomer nodded as he stepped out to find his young daughter and try and put their plan into action to soften the blow of what an arranged marriage was going to be like. Aragorn made straight for his one and only son, Prince Eldarion. His son was, as Eomer commented, a near spitting image of himself even at only twenty years old. His dark brown hair was long and he had allowed himself to grow a thin goatee that wasn't completely filled in just yet. His eyes were blue as the seas, like his Elven mother. He was already near Aragorn's size, and had, according to his mother and her chamber maids grown into one of the most handsome men in Gondor. The thing about that particular fact was that he knew it. He would ride or walk through Minas Tirith or ride to Osgiliath, just to get out and the ladies and girls would simply melt under his confident smile and handsome charm. This had gotten him into a bit of trouble with some of the nobles of Gondor who didn't like their daughters swooning over the young Prince but being royalty, he was free from any real punishment from even the nobles. However, he was still susceptible to the judgment of his father, who was not the most popular with the more powerful nobles who had seen quite a lot of loss of power and influence with his crowning and leadership.

As a young Prince he had felt cheated out of glory in battle during his father's several military campaigns in which he had been old enough to partake but had been barred from doing so. He had of course been trained with sword, shield, and bow by his father throughout his life, but never once used them in anger. He wore the sword given to him by his father, the same sword that Aragorn had wielded through the Battles of Amon Hen and Helm's Deep, and had gifted it to him on his fifteenth birthday. It had come to be known as "Strider" the Sword of the Prince. It had taken his father's old name as a Ranger, a reminder of the humble beginnings of Aragorn's reconstituted house. He wore it wherever he went, as was the case now as the group of nobles and several generals he was talking to parted to make way for their king who had come up behind Eldarion.

"Eldarion," Arargorn spoke, his voice filled with the purpose that he felt was warranted by this situation.

"Father," Eldarion responded, turning and bowing his head respectfully.

"What was this?" Aragorn asked, knowing that he had to pay a portion of interest to the conversation of his son and these important men.

"A debate your grace, on the merits of expanded ranger companies on the frontier," replied the general who commanded Gondor's Army, General Sirion.

"I believe rangers as far east as the Sea of Rhun would go a long way to securing our claim to the territory," Eldarion responded, "The good lords here disagree, citing the expense of such posts."

"The lack of settlements means that roads to the posts would need to be established, supplies would have to be carted all the way," Aragorn responded.

"Yes but the Rangers would have their own camp followers who would create settlements that would eventually make their posts self-sufficient," Eldarion protested.

"Rangers cannot be tied down my son, camp followers of that scale would not make them true Rangers."

"I understand Father."

"I'm sorry my friends, I need to speak with my son on a separate matter."

"That is quite alright your majesty," the eldest of the nobles replied.

"Come," Aragorn calmly beckoned, patting his son on the shoulder.

"If it is something I said there I do apologize," Eldarion said calmly as he was led towards the door.

"You are not in trouble this time Eldarion. I have something to ask of you," Aragorn said as the two of them walked to the door as a pair of Guards of the Citadel opened them at the King's approach.

The two of them walked out into the crisp cool air of the spring night. The sounds of music, talking and spat of laughter still reached their ears. Before them was the courtyard of the Citadel, where the White Tree of Gondor stood proudly with new blossoms sprouting from its limbs. There were numerous guards here, their tall spears and shining armor glinting under the moonlight as they stood vigilantly. The White Tower stood above them, cast in a cool blue in the moonlight as it watched over the land and people, standing as a symbol of power and prestige.

"So what is it you would have me do?" Eldarion asked curiously.

"You will see," Aragorn said as he heard the footsteps of two people come up from behind them from the doors.

"Aragorn," Eomer said pleasantly, "Eldarion."

"Your highness," Eldarion said respectfully to the King of Rohan. However his eyes flitted over to the young lady by his side, "Princess Eolyn."

"Your grace," the young blonde girl said, bowing slightly.

Princess Eolyn was the youngest of Eomer's two children and his sole daughter. She was said to be one of the fairest of ladies of the land yet Eldarion himself hadn't met her but once in childhood. Her wavy hair was as golden as the sun with light blue eyes that were as if the sky of Rohan had gifted its pristine self into them. Her evenly tanned face was smooth and innocent, free of any freckles or faults. She was sixteen, a year younger than her brother and a full two years younger than Eldarion. She had blossomed wonderfully, any man was able to tell that. But behind the trappings of the royal green and gold gown she wore and the beautiful blue eyes lay a hidden fire that no one besides those closest to her knew existed. She studied Eldarion carefully, studying him and noting the handsome face that she had heard of and taking in the other aspects that she could see.

"I do believe that you two have not yet been acquainted with one another," Aragorn said, stepping forward, "Princess Eolyn I would like introduce my son, Prince Eldarion."

"A pleasure to meet the Golden Princess of Rohan," Eldarion said, courteously taking her hand and planting a gentle kiss on the smooth skin, "Your beauty is spoken of far and wide."

"It too is a pleasure to meet the Prince of Gondor, my chamber maids have spoken of you with great praise," she responded, feigning her trained manners, so the compliment was more of a scripted than genuine response.

"Eldarion, perhaps you could show Eolyn around the Citadel, I do believe this is the first time Eolyn has been to our humble city," Aragorn suggested, but really, it was more of an order.

"Oh I would be honored," Eldarion said, slightly taken off guard, but was quite suspicious of the off-the-wall order.

"Daughter?" Eomer said, turning to his daughter expectantly.

"It would be a pleasure your highness," she said after a flash of suspicion flashed across her face. She was no fool, she knew that she was now becoming of age to marry and that Eldarion was not yet married himself. She could very easily see that this was an attempt to set them up and did not like it, but as the daughter of the king she couldn't say no.

"Excellent, Eldarion, stay within the upper level," Aragorn ordered.

"Yes father," he replied with a firm nod and then turned to Eolyn, "Milady."

Eldarion held out his arm courteously and Eolyn hesitated as she turned to her father who nodded quietly. She then swallowed a bit of nervousness creeping up her gut and cautiously took his hand and proceeded to walk out down the stone path leaving the two kings to watch as they walked off.

"Well, so far so good," Aragorn said calmly, "We should probably return. We're probably missed."

"Very well," Eomer said sternly as he watched his daughter and Eldarion stop at the White Tree and the Fountain it stood over.

Aragorn took one last look, and hoped that he had made the right choice doing all of this and then went back into his hall and rejoined the party with the doors closing loudly behind him.

"So this is the White Tree of Gondor?" Eolyn was the first to speak as the two of them stopped in front of the famous tree. It was quite large, stretching upwards in a cone like an evergreen but with smooth unwrinkled white bark and broad leaves that were dark green above and smooth silver on their undersides. White blossoms were showered over much of the tree and a few fell into the pristine fountain below hardly disturbing the crystal clear water.

"Yes, planted by my father after he found a seedling high on the mountain above us," Eldarion said with pride, "It is the fourth tree Gondor has had, and is said to be the most spectacular."

"It is intriguing. But we know that this is rather strange, our fathers suddenly having us alone," Eolyn said as the two of them continued to the throne room.

"My thought was that perhaps they are trying to acquaint us in the hopes I may be taken with you," Eldarion responded as the guards opened the large doors for them.

"Taken by me?" Eolyn responded with a cocked eye brow.

"We are both of marrying age. We are both royalty, it is politically advantageous and seemingly possible for us to like one another," Eldarion nonchalantly responded.

"Oh really? So confident," Eolyn rolled her eyes.

"I am, I am the Crown Prince, what isn't there to stop me?"

"Then what's it like, being a Prince of Gondor?"

"Well, I guess it isn't all that dissimilar from you. I have no real responsibilities except to my father and mother's authority," Eldarion replied.

"And to your country," Eolyn replied, finishing off what he should have said.

They had both entered the center of the throne room, with the throne standing cold and empty over them both.

"That goes without saying. But it's nice, I get to do just about anything I want, and now that I'm older I can go just about anywhere I want on top of that. Plus I have been trained and taught by many of the finest tutors and warriors in the realm."

"I envy that," Eolyn responded.

"You envy me? You're a princess of Rohan, the horse lords. You can ride upon the finest of horses and see miles in all directions and go there."

"I can't leave Edoras without an escort and permission from my father or mother. Even then everything is handed to me and I can't really feel the kind of freedom that you seem to experience at your whim."

"Well I'm sure that your father only has your safety in mind. He wouldn't let Eoden and I go out on our own until we were sixteen," Eldarion shrugged.

"I just don't want to be treated like something to be protected. I can handle myself you know, all the women of Rohan can. I was trained with sword and bow from my infancy, same as you."

"Well, you are a princess. I can understand why you need protecting."

"I don't need anyone to protect me," Eolyn snapped, "I can handle myself."

"If you say so," Eldarion chuckled, "But someone as important as a princess can't be left to her own devices."

"You think my ability to defend myself is a joke? Is that it?" Eolyn growled, not appreciating the patronizing she was getting from Eldarion.

"Well you are a princess, no insult meant it's just that there's a difference between what a prince and princess should be. Like your brother and I, we're supposed to become Kings, someone to rule and lead our armies into battle and fight alongside them. And princesses…not so much."

Eolyn just glared at him through narrowed eyes as she started to boil over at what Eldarion had said to her, "And who says so Prince? My aunt, Eowyn did what no one thought a woman could do. She was the one who slayed the Witch King of Angmar, she rode with the Rohirrim into the greatest battle of our time. For someone who was so confident in your ability to woo me you are not making progress."

"The greatest battle of our parents' time. Ours has not yet seen such vast battles with the fate of Middle Earth hanging in the balance," Eldarion corrected.

"There has not yet been a dark lord for us to do battle against. Sauron is gone, and even Saruman was slain by the Hobbits of the Shire after the end of the war. Only the Harad and Easterlings remain," Eolyn responded bitterly, "And they are no threat to us anymore."

"Not yet, if there is anything that I know is that there will always be conflict, there are still evil things out there, Orcs, Trolls, Wargs, and I have heard one of the Nazgul is said to be still alive," said Eldarion, getting a roll of the eyes from Eolyn.

"Please, don't bother trying to frighten me with your tales of the Ring-Wraiths. They were all killed, each of their cloaks is on display in your Citadel, I have seen them, and the rest of your great palace."

"Wait, you have gone through the Citadel before? Then why did our fathers ask me to show you around?" Eldarion stopped and questioned her, clearly confused.

"I'm a princess, I'm not supposed to question my father's will remember?" Eolyn coolly responded, walking towards the open doors that led them back to the courtyard.

"Oh what happened to breaking out of your cage mighty shield maiden?" Eldarion mocked.

At that slight taunt Eolyn finally spun around and marched towards Eldarion and stood mere feet from him, looking up slightly into his eyes with a burning anger that could have boiled over at any moment into something more physically painful for the young prince.

"I could break you if I wanted to," she hissed.

"Oh really?" Eldarion chuckled casually brushing past her as he made it back into the courtyard and the cool night air. The pair of Citadel Guards returned rigidly to attention, tucking their spears and shields tightly to their sides as the now fuming princess and entertained prince walked out and listened to the argument.

"Do you wish to see? Or would the Prince of Gondor not take kindly to being beaten by a princess?"

"I do not fight girls," Eldarion replied.

"Is that so? So you can choose to be gentleman in an effort to avoid a fight. Bravo good prince, bravo."

Eldarion watched her sarcastically walk past him and began to feel his own anger starting to rise to the surface, "What are you saying? Are you calling me a coward?"

"Oh no, I am simply saying you are afraid of me."

"If you were not a-," Eldarion began, jabbing his finger at her as he stalked towards her, but was interrupted by footsteps coming from the direction of the great hall. A servant dressed in a black and silver shirt and pants stood before them bearing all the high class and was perfectly unaware of how heated the argument between the two had gotten.

"Your highness, King Elessar asks for you and Princess Eolyn to join for the toast and the feast."

"Thank you, milady?" Eldarion said half through his teeth as he held out his arm in a now purely formal gesture.

The two of them walked back several paces behind the man sent to get them and reentered the party. And as soon as they made inside the hall they parted ways, not taking a second glance at one another. The argument between the two of them was still quite fresh within their minds. Eldarion immediately made his way to where he was always supposed to sit for feasts and toasts, at his father's right-hand side. As he sat down beside his father he tried pushing the argument with Eolyn out of his mind so to carry on with the celebration.

However, Eolyn was doing the exact opposite. She held onto the spat with Eldarion and fumed silently to herself as she wondered why her father had made her do that. Almost instantly she thought that it was an attempt at getting the two of them together and in the best of circumstances, romantically involved. But things don't always work out that way, and for her all she could really think of was how things might have gone any better, perhaps she could have been a bit cooler headed, or maybe she could have not tried to openly challenge him. She knew better by now than to let her anger get in the way of her head. As a girl with an older brother she had always been a fighter. As a young girl she would always play fight or fight for real against her older brother whenever things got testy between them which happened often. It continued until Eoden had gotten to the age where he had begun to see women differently and began to come of age as a man now that he was seventeen. She had by now in her seventeenth year begun to learn from her mother how to be a proper lady as was her royal duty. But she still had another dream as a Shield Maiden of Rohan. She would grow up listening to bed time stories of the great Eowyn who rode into battle dressed as a man and fought in Pellenor Fields against the armies of Sauron, the Legions of Harad, and the most dangerous of all, the Nazgul Witch-King of Angmar. These stories emboldened her to do some of the great things like her aunt had done. So needless to say, an attempt at courting her didn't usually end well. This time just seemed to be an addition to that list of attempts, save for the oddity of Eldarion being equally willing to engage in a heated exchange.

"You don't seem happy," a familiar voice said from Eolyn's left hand side. She turned to see her brother, Eoden, the heir to the throne of Rohan. He was very much like Eomer in appearance. He had the same long straight blonde hair same eyes and very similar facial features. He was slightly shorter than Eomer, but was still every bit the prince. The eighteen-year old wore a dark green and gold shirt and black pants, and had his faithful sword with him as well. He didn't have a beard yet, and was clean shaven which made him look younger than he was. Eoden was however no child. As a Prince of Rohan he was a master horseman, a proficient swordsman, and a decent archer, especially on horseback. Eomer himself taught him how to handle himself in a fight from a young age, most of the time with Eolyn right there next to her brother as she was now in the Hall of the King of Gondor.

"No," Eolyn simply replied.

"And why is that?" Eoden responded.

"Your friend Eldarion is why."

"Oh, what happened?" Eoden asked.

"Father and King Aragorn had him show me around the Citadel. Apparently, he thinks that I don't have what it takes to take care of myself."

"You tried to fight, didn't you?"

"No!" Eolyn responded testily looking right at him. Eoden arched his eyebrows knowingly, drawing the truth from her, "Okay I challenged him I didn't strike him."

"Good, you could have a started a war like that."

"Oh very funny," Eolyn mocked as King Aragorn stood up.

"Friends," the voice of Aragorn called out, "Friends. It has many years since the fall of the Dark Lord and the start of the greatest reign of prosperity in the history of men. For the sacrifices of those who stood against the forces of the dark have not been in vain, so let us not forget their honor, their nobility, and their courage. Let us aspire to the same virtues that brought about this new age," Aragorn said as he held his glass of wine up high, "Hail to the sacrifices of those we've lost."

"Hail!" the crowd cheered loudly holding their glasses high and then downing them only to be surprised as servants promptly refilled them.

"Before you proceed to empty my humble hall of its food I have another announcement," Aragorn said calmly with a smile as several of the guests had a good chuckle at his sarcasm, "Eldarion, my son, rise," he motioned to his son.

Eldarion rose to his feet with a surprised look on his face. He remembered many of these celebrations and the only time he had been told to rise was when he had first been allowed at such an occasion and accidentally sat in the wrong seat. But this was the first time his father had told him to rise in the middle of a toast. He instantly thought that perhaps he was going to be anointed the Captain of the Guard of the Citadel, as was customary for the Prince and heir to the throne according to tradition. However, he also knew that was probably not going to happen. But then he began to very quickly figure out when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Eomer walk forward with his very nervous daughter Eolyn right to them. She and Eldarion then realized what was coming, and tried to hold their panic back and remain calm.

"It has come time for Gondor and Rohan to show our friendship and loyalty to one another not only by bond of battle. But by bond of marriage. I give you Prince Eldarion, my son, and heir to the throne of Gondor. And I give you Princess Eolyn, daughter of Eomer, the Golden Lady of Medusel. You are to be wed to one another upon the first full moon when the spring awakens."

Eolyn and Eldarion were carefully maneuvered to stand in front of each other, and as Aragorn stood in between them he took their hands and placed them within one another's grasp. Eldarion was stunned at what he was doing, and Eolyn looked to be completely dumb struck as Aragorn finished his speech.

"May your lives be filled with more love and peace than your fathers and mothers," he soothingly said to the two young newly betrothed, as he looked with soft eyes into those of Eldarion and Eolyn.

A loud cheer went up from the crowd and the food was quickly brought forth from the entrance to the kitchen on plates of silver and gold. Pork, beef, fish, and mutton cooked by some of the finest chefs in Gondor sizzled and steamed filling the hall with a wafting scent that was sure to awaken the hunger of anyone. Great bowls of fresh fruits, loafs of freshly baked bread, ales, wines, and salads all streamed onto the tables as Eolyn and Eldarion both were smothered by the guests wishing them happiness, asking how many children they planned to have, and what their plans for the wedding were.

However, the parents of the newly betrothed couple did not go to their son or daughter. Eomer walked over to his table, his face a subtle mask of concern and slight regret. But before he even made it to the table he was surprised when Eoden stepped in his way, his own face trembling with anger.

"Eoden," he simply acknowledged.

"How could you do that to Eolyn? An arranged marriage without so much as a warning or an acknowledgement? And on top of that she's to marry my best friend?!" Eoden hissed quietly, knowing better than to raise his voice at his father in company.

"One day you will be king, and you'll understand," he said as he walked past Eoden.

"When I am king I will not betray my children's trust."

"Do you think I take joy in this course of action?!" Eomer growled as he whirled around at him, "This is not something I truly wanted to do."

"So why do it? Why rob Eolyn of being able to choose who to give her heart to?" Eoden asked.

"It was what will ensure the continued friendship of Gondor and Rohan. A marriage of your sister and Eldarion creates that bond."

"But Rohan came to the aid of Gondor in the war, if it were not for the Rohirrim the White City would have fallen."

"There is more to being king than fighting battles my son, you'd best remember that before making your judgments."

Eoden gritted his teeth and held his tongue, which Eomer took to mean that the argument was over. Father and son let each other pass as Eoden looked at his sister, easily able to see the hurt conveyed in her eyes as she stood uncomfortably by the equally distraught Eldarion. As he stood there he felt a presence walk up from the side and didn't even have to turn to see his only other relative, Borothir, son of Faramir and Eowyn, his cousin. Borothir was older than Eoden, but still younger than Eldarion, and was the best of friends between the two. He had equal loyalty to Rohan and Gondor as the son of Faramir and Eowyn and was how Eldarion and Eoden had met each other. He was the same size as both princes, with light brown hair like his father with gray eyes. His face was slightly broader than his father's making him look a bit more like Faramir's passed brother, Boromir, whom he was named in honor of. He had grown a slight goatee that was thinly visible in the same color as his long hair. Borothir was the only son of Faramir and the oldest out of three children with the other two being twin sisters of six years old. He was the most free out of the three friends, being able to go out with Faramir's Ithilien Rangers and hunt, fish, and learn to be in the outdoors. As fitted the son of a Ranger, he'd even gotten to make his own longbow in the Ithilien way and was by far the best archer among them.

"You can see it too?" Borothir asked, as he stood next to his cousin.

"My father arranged this with King Aragorn. Apparently, it's to ensure the friendship of our kingdoms past the time of our fathers."

"Well, I suppose as the children of kings that's what you must expect," Borothir shrugged as he drank from his pint of ale, "Marriage tends to be more political than romantic."

"An arranged marriage is something no one should have to go through, from the lowest peasant to the highest royalty. It's not right."

"Hey, it's done, and who knows, maybe they'll fall in love. Perhaps this is just the push towards each other that they needed to see it. Give it some time," Borothir said clapping his cousin on the shoulder.

"Hmph, you always did know how to make the worst of situations seem just a bit better," Eoden chuckled, nodding appreciatively at Borothir who nodded back.

"I know, but I'm not sure how even I'd be able to help those two with this," Borothir pointed at the two, "Look at them, they're about to explode."

"I don't think I want to be here when they do."

"Neither do I. Like you said, give 'em some time."

As the party began to settle Aragorn saw his oldest friends, Legolas and Gimli looking at him in a way that they knew meant, 'we need to talk.' So he carefully stood up and walked over to them as they stood by a side door. The three of them walked without a word into an adjacent hall devoid of anyone that might overhear. As soon as Aragorn turned to close the door completely he felt the hard snap of the wooden cane Gimli held smack against his head. He knew what it was for, and gathered himself as he turned to talk to them.

"I deserved that," Aragorn stated plainly.

"Aye, I think your lad and the little lass would agree with ye," Gimli grumbled, "You're lucky old Gandalf isn't here, he'd be giving you a piece of his considerable mind."

"I thought you wouldn't be too pleased with my decision," Aragorn said calmly as he looked at Legolas whose face was about as calm and serene as ever.

"And yet you did it Aragorn?" Legolas calmly responded, "Why? Isn't the chance to love someone of your choosing something you hold most dear to your heart? Why take that choice from Eldarion and Eolyn?"

"There are some things that I have had to do as king that I do not like. This is the worst of them all. It's a complex world, the royal court. Eldarion's choice of wife one way or another would have long-standing implications, Eolyn was the best of the many I had to choose from. All I can do is hope for them to see in each other what Arwen and I saw in each other. If not, all I can do is hope for their forgiveness."

"Their forgiveness?!" Gimli snorted, "You've paired them up like you pair a couple of horses you want to breed. What makes you think you'll even get it?"

Legolas gave Gimli a good shove at the harsh manner of the way he said that, "Aragorn, whatever happens, I think you should always remember what it is that matters to you. There was a time when you put nothing in front of the love of your friends and family. Have you lost sight of that?"

"I believe I have," Aragorn nodded solemnly.

"Go then lad, go speak with them," Gimli calmly said, putting a hand on Aragorn's arm.

"After the party," Aragorn stated, "When I can speak openly with them and they with me."

"You'd better, or I'll remind you of it," Gimli stated sternly, tapping Aragorn's chest with his cane.

" _Don't let your crown cover your heart Aragorn_ ," Legolas spoke to him, this time in the Elven language.

" _I won't my friend, thank you_."

The celebration had ended slowly around midnight, to allow for most of the guests to get some sleep for their return journey home, if they planned on going home the day after the celebration. But there was to be no rest for Princess Eolyn of Rohan. She had come from the party and instantly went to a balcony where she knew that she could be alone. It had been a rough night, that was a tentative way of putting it. She had been promised to the Prince of Gondor as his wife, on top of that she hadn't even known that was going to happen beforehand.

The entire night after that announcement was a blur. Her mind was, even as she stood at the balcony, struggling to come to terms. She had been asked such innocent yet troubling things as names for children, marriage plans, and honeymoon destinations. But the worst was when the Thain of the Shire, the leader of the Hobbits, Peregrin Took, asked how they'd come to love each other and she had to completely avoid the question to keep from blowing up in front of everyone. Her anger at her father, at Aragorn, at Eldarion, and the fates themselves, continued to build throughout the hours of celebration and feasting. So she was especially thankful when she was able to slip away to somewhere quiet to vent and calm down and think.

And thinking was something she was doing a great deal of as she sat calmly on a stone railing and leaned against the carved stone pillar. She looked out over the city of Minas Tirith below her, and at Osgiliath out in the distance as it sparkled with lights from lanterns in the streets and shimmered with lights from its own more raucous party being held in its own town square. She let the cooling breeze flow over her face and let wisps of her hair flutter slightly as she just let herself think about what life was going to mean for her now that she was engaged. She couldn't help but feel betrayed by her father for promising her away as if she were but a pawn to be played in some grand game. She then remembered the look on Aragorn's face when he'd announced it. She'd only seen him a handful of times, but she'd always seen him erect in posture, and confident in himself. But when she'd looked into his eyes she was able to see a new emotion for him. He was troubled, as if he didn't really know how this was going to work out. But when she thought of it she also remembered seeing some of the very same emotions on Eldarion's face. He seemed conflicted, like he didn't even have the slightest inkling as to the existence of this pact. She couldn't help but be surprised by that. Eolyn had thought that someone like Eldarion would be more than pleased to have her as a wife, to be his. She knew that she was highly sought after for her great beauty and royal blood. But it seemed that he didn't think that way, which gave her some hope.

As continued to look out she remembered one other horrible thing about being wedded. The great Pellenor Fields instantly brought the stories of her aunt Eowyn flooding into her mind. The glory of adventure had come to Eowyn that day before the great walls of this city. She could practically see it, the fires of the city illuminating the great hordes of orcs besieging the White City. The black rolling mass of evil creatures come to destroy the last great city of Gondor, surprised by the arrival of the Rohirrim riding to the rescue from the North. All six thousand riders seeing this great unstoppable tide and not turning away rode into the mouth of death and delivered such a great victory that it would be spoken of for all time. And in the center of it all was a shield maiden, Eowyn, who stood against the mightiest of Sauron's servants and won. It was everything Eolyn hoped to see and experience, and now with this promise to marriage she was robbed of it.

However, she realized that there was one way, one chance to live out her own adventure before the time came to accept her destiny. And without really realizing it she stood and looked out over the great land of Gondor and turned with her new mission in mind and heart. She walked into her room and carefully threw open her chest and changed from her fine dress into a pair of old black pants, a green shirt and then a short-sleeved leather vest over that. She then carefully dug out a hidden item that she was taught to always have with her. It was a studded leather belt with a Rohan style short sword and a dagger given to her by her brother on her tenth birthday. She tied this around her waist and then finished it all off with a dark green colored hooded cloak that she pulled on and was about to throw the hood over her head when she saw a small stack of paper and a bottle of ink and a small white quill standing unused next to it on a table.

So sitting down at the table she penned her farewell letter to her family and then placed it gently on her pillow. She also took a small bag and stuffed it with a few other items of her own like a spare change of clothes, some needle and thread for patching up any holes, and then crammed in a few apples and other fruits from a bowl in the corner that came with the room. So with that done she gently closed her door and walked out to the royal stables where the horses that they had ridden to Minas Tirith were being kept. This included her own horse, Ruby, a red and white colored mare given to her as a gift the day she began learning to ride as a filly. She'd raised that horse, and was her favorite possession and her dearest friend. Looking around and avoiding the guards and some stable boys walking away after a day of work she quietly walked into the stables and shut the door behind her, leaving only the dim light of a few lanterns to see by. As she turned around she was not at all surprised to see Ruby looking at her with ears upright and alert and eyes eagerly looking from her to her saddle straddled across the wooden fence in her pen.

Eolyn carefully walked to her horse, and let Ruby nuzzle her slightly as she got near, "It's time to ride Ruby, but we must be quiet. Do you understand?" Eolyn asked, getting an eager grunt from the red mare who pawed at the ground with built up energy, "Good, the rest of you, go back to sleep."

She pointed at the other horses in their pens who all just continued to stare at her or simply turned away to return to their sleep or do whatever it was horses did. She breathed a sigh of relief that none of the horses was making any suspicious noise and proceeded to get her own horse saddled up. Eolyn tossed the light green blanket over Ruby's back, and then fastened her saddle over them. She checked her saddle bags to be sure that she had the survival gear that she was required to keep in her bags such as a fire-starting kit, a mirror for signaling, a water bladder, a blanket, hooks and line for fishing, a tent with the tools needed to set it up, and a decent-sized sack of coins. Once that was finished she led Ruby out her stall and opened the door to be sure the coast was clear. After that she got her horse out and grimaced the horse shoes clicked against the stone ground and carefully pulled herself up into the saddle and urged her horse forward.

She passed through the several gates from level to level without incident, going unnoticed as she trotted past unlit houses where families slept quietly and peacefully. There was the occasional man or woman or couple walking down the streets and even the rare soldier on patrol to keep the peace in this fine city. But then she made it to the largest and last gate in Minas Tirith and made it to the half open gate without being challenged by the guards who were all too tired and bored to care about one lone rider leaving the city. But as she got to the very threshold of the gate she heard something she did not want to hear.

"Hold it there!" a guard called out and began walking up behind her.

Eolyn began to fear that she had been discovered, and that her adventure was over before it even began. She dared not look at the man afraid that she would be recognized and stopped. The sounds of heavy boots and the rattling of the heavy full-bodied armor that the guard wore came up from behind her until she felt the presence within feet of her. The light of a lantern he held in his hand illuminated the area around her and she could just hear her father reprimanding her for this course of action.

"You dropped this," the voice said politely and she looked down to see a guard open her saddle bag and place her bag of spare clothes and food into her saddle bags.

"Oh, thank you," she said in gratitude but immediately regretted having spoken as the guard looked up and the light of his lantern illuminated her face.

"Wait, you're the Princess of Rohan. Why are you-," he began but was stopped as Eolyn snapped under the pressure.

"Hah!" she yelled, urging the Ruby forward and took off into the night. She covered ground quickly, but was still able to hear the man yell out.

"Sound the alarm! Sound the alarm!"

A second later a horn began bellowing and she was able to hear the mixed yelling of many soldiers and people as she rode hard north, away from the towering city. The sounds of the hoof beats on the hard grassy ground echoed in Eolyn's mind as adrenaline coursed through her veins and she rode all the way to the hill that looked out over the Fields, Osgiliath, and Minas Tirith. She stopped there, and looked back to see what she had left and saw no one chasing her and took a second to look up at the citadel and maybe see if her father, or brother, or mother was looking down to see what the commotion was about. But from this distance she couldn't tell. As she sat there upon Ruby she felt a sense of dread rise from her heart at what she knew she must have been putting her parents through. Her mother would not cease fretting until she was in her arms again, her father was more than likely to ride after her himself with the entire royal guard. And her brother would do the same thing and would be joined by Borothir, her cousin. A small tear glided down her face, and she sniffled a bit as she wiped it away and thought to herself that now was not the time for tears, tonight she would begin a great adventure and see all there was to see, _no more tears_.

The horn of Gondor surprised Aragorn as he prepared for bed and on instinct ran to the nearest window to see what the alarm was for. He looked out and saw no traces of smoke from perhaps a house fire which was not at all uncommon, nor did he see signs of an attack, but from where he was standing he was not able to see many things thanks to how high the Citadel was. So he left his chambers with Arwen coming out of her own bathroom with hair brush in hand.

"What is it?" she asked, quite concerned.

"I do not know," Aragorn said, "But I plan to find out."

He threw on a simple leather vest and grabbed his sword Anduril and began to tie it around his waist as he left his room and was greeted immediately by the Captain of Guard in full armor with another pair of spear and shield toting guards right behind him.

"My king, the alarm," he stated.

"I know, any word on what the meaning of it is?" Aragorn asked as he walked outside to where he would be able to look and see what the commotion was about. Guards ran about in their dozens, rushing to their stations. The royal guard of Rohan stood in front of the door to where their king and royal family was staying looking about for any sign of danger as they should have been. Aragorn also saw a pair of Dwarf guards carrying large double headed axes rush to their side from the door.

"Nothing as of yet my liege, but I do know it was sounded at the gate."

"It could be anything then," Aragorn stated grimly.

"My king, a rider approaches!" a guard called out as a horseman galloped into the courtyard and stopped as the horse eagerly pawed and circled, making it a bit difficult to grab the reigns and calm the animal. The rider jumped off, his armor rattling as he ran to Aragorn and the Captain. He bowed out of instinct and rose again to make his report.

"Your majesty, the alarm was sounded at the gate when a lone rider broke from the city when challenged."

"A lone rider?" Aragorn asked.

"Yes sire, but it was no man. I recognized the rider, it was Princess Eolyn, of Rohan."

"What?! Are you sure?" Aragorn asked intently.

"As clear as I see you sire," he responded.

"Very well, return to your post and sound the all clear. No need to mobilize the entire garrison for this matter."

"Sire," the soldier responded, bowing and then returned to his horse and rode off.

Aragorn pursed his lips, knowing this would not be easy to explain to Eomer and that if Gimli found out then he'd probably give Aragorn more than a swat with a cane. He walked to the doors and the two Rohan guards opened them for him and was not surprised to see Eomer walking to the door.

"Aragorn, what's happening?" Eomer demanded as he walked up him. Aragorn saw from around the corner Eomer's wife Lothiriel, and his own son Eoden.

"It's Eolyn," he said calmly getting a strange, confused look from Eomer who looked back at the door he knew to be where his daughter had been sleeping.

Lothiriel ran to the door and threw it open and instantly her hands flew up to cover a gasp from the queen. Eomer walked over to the door and in his heart he knew what he was going to see. He looked into the room and saw an empty bed and a letter placed upon the pillow at its head. He walked in past his now weeping wife who was now in the arms of Eoden who looked at the empty room with sadness and confusion in his eyes. Eomer picked up the letter and turned around as he read it.

"Dear Mother, Father, and Brother. I have not run away to spite you or refuse your wishes. I have simply decided to venture out on my own one last time to see and explore and live freely before I am to be married. I do not wish for you to suffer from guilt at my leaving, for do not fear, I shall return once my quest is done. I do not know where I shall go or how I shall I get there. But I will return to home to you. Your loving daughter, Eolyn," he read out loud as he held it down away from him. He stood in thought at this new consequence of his own making and decided how to right this, "Eoden," he said firmly, "Take ten men and ride hard and track your sister down and find her."

"Father I-," Eoden spoke.

"Do not question me!" Eomer snapped at him loudly.

"I should go alone," Eoden continued, getting a look of intrigue from Eomer, "If I take a unit of the royal guard every scoundrel, thief, and rebel from here to Fangorn will be alerted and looking for her as a way to get a great ransom. If I go alone then I can find her quickly and quietly without arousing anymore suspicion than is needed."

"I will not let both my children venture out there alone!" Eomer said firmly.

"He won't be alone," a new voice said, the owner of said voice coming out from around the corner. It was Eldarion, come to see what was going on, "He'll have me to watch his back."

"Eldarion-," Aragorn said calmly.

"Father, he is my friend, and well, that's also my future wife so if she and I are going to make this work venturing out to protect her is a good way to start."

Eomer looked at Eldarion and nodded, "Very well, go."

Eoden bowed and walked quickly to his room to dress in the appropriate attire for this journey and then Eldarion did the same, walking off to get his own stuff set and ready for this new adventure. Eoden was the first to be ready, having the shortest distance to go before being able to go to the stables. He had put on a pair of tough pants with leather on the inside for riding and had put on a long sleeved gray shirt with a short sleeved green tunic and a brown leather vest. On his wrists he'd placed a pair of guards that were trimmed with thin pieces of metal for firming up the protective pieces. On his waist he had his own sword decorated with silver horse emblems and a green jeweled hilt. He had also brought along his own three-foot diameter shield with a golden emblem of a horse on a dark green background held in place by steel nails and bracing. He carried a curved elven dagger given to him by Legolas as a gift several years ago, and on his back he had a quiver of twenty-five arrows and his own short bow. He had a cloak on colored a light green almost turned brown from how often it was used. After he'd gotten all of that on he'd pulled on a pair of dark gloves.

He began to check the saddle of his horse Yarrow, as Eldarion walked in wearing a black cloak over his own dark blue shirt and black leather vest. He had a pair of tough black pants on which he had his belt with his own Longsword and a dagger that his father had used during the War. He had his wrists protected the same way as Eoden, but his were etched with the standard of Gondor, the White Tree and a crown of stars over the tree. On his shoulder he also had a small piece of leather for protection like a pad of sorts. He'd also cut the fingers off a pair of black gloves for better grip on his reigns and sword for the journey. He had a long bow and a quiver of twenty-six arrows in his hands as he walked in to see that his horse was ready. Another thing that surprised both of them was that they were not alone, their mutual friend Borothir was waiting for them by his own horse.

He wore a dark gray cloak and had his sword, straight dagger, and long bow and a much larger quiver of thirty-nine arrows hanging by his waist in easy reach. He had a leather vest with the standard of Gondor emblazoned on it with a black shirt on under that. On his left hand he held a wrist protector for his bow and a pair of fingerless gloves on both hands. He had on a pair of tough dark pants and had a tear drop shaped shield about three feet tall and two and a half feet wide already strapped onto his horse along with his other gear. It was painted black with the same standard of Gondor that his vest had on it.

"So you two thought you could get away with running off on this adventure without me eh?" Borothir asked mockingly as the two of them checked their saddles and saddlebags to be sure they made sure they had everything they needed.

"Well we thought about it, but you would have slowed us down," Eoden chuckled at his cousin.

"Oh really? And who would do the dirty work for you two princes?"

"Well thanks for volunteering Borothir," Eldarion said smartly.

"Always a pleasure to be of service."

Each of their saddlebags was packed with the essentials, food, bowl, spoon and fork, water bladder, spare clothes, a sack of coins, a map, fire starting kit, a tent, a blanket, and some medical supplies. They were all ready, and each knew what they were off to do.

"We ready?" Eldarion asked.

"Let's ride," Eoden nodded, and began to lead his horse out to where they saw that they were being awaited.

There waiting was Aragorn, Eomer, and Faramir, their fathers. Each of them wore a face of grim concern but as they saw the three of them walk out leading their horses they couldn't help but beam in pride at the quest the three had taken upon themselves. Each of them walked up to their respective son and took a moment to speak with them.

"My son, remember your duty. Eldarion is the Prince, and as a Steward, your oath, your loyalty is to him and his family. Right now, that family is your family, Eolyn is both your cousin and Eldarion's future wife. Bring her home," Faramir said, "And bring yourself home to us. You are my son, make us proud."

"I will," Borothir nodded, and was slightly surprised to be taken into an embrace by Faramir, who usually was not so emotional.

"Farewell Borothir."

With Eoden he saw just how much this situation was taking its toll on his father. Eomer was clearly not very happy. But as he saw Eoden standing before him, ready to ride out and find his sister he felt more at ease, knowing he'd taught him well.

"Bring her home Eoden," he said putting both hand on his shoulders, "Swear this to me."

"I swear father, I won't fail you."

"I know, go ride hard my son."

Eldarion watched the good byes as his father watched beside him.

"Keep an eye on them Eldarion, and return with Eolyn. There was something I hadn't gotten the chance to tell you two. I had wanted to tell you tomorrow morning but it seems that will have to wait. Remember what I've taught you, be strong and honest. You must lead them, bring all of you home to us."

"I will," he replied with a nod, and turned to mount his horse.

"Eldarion," Aragorn called out and walked over and held out a ring. It was made of white mithril, with a black onyx stone with the symbol of Gondor held within it, "Take it, it will bring you luck."

"Thank you."

Eoden and Borothir mounted their horses and settled into their saddles. The horses paced about, ready to go as they knew that they would soon be off.

"Let's ride my friends!" Eldarion called out and spurred his horse forward. The clicking the three horses' hooves echoed through the square as the three young men rode off to find their runaway Princess.

As they rode out of the city gates they rode into a world that was just beginning to change. Darkness was in the air, and none could have foreseen this coming storm from the beauty and peace that had ruled this night. But this coming conflict would shake the balance in Middle Earth, for the source of this disturbance was not anything that anyone had seen before.

 **Well I think I redid this as well as I could've. Most of it was fixing grammar and breaking up some of the monotony of it all and elaborating on some of the characters and their introductions. Hopefully I did it right. Let me know how close I was in the reviews, I'm in need of some feedback to be sure I'm on the right track.**

 **Next Chapter Preview: On their quests, and encountering their first dangers.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, I have some more character additions, but only one I could think of an actor for visualizing. But hey he's a good match.**

 **Stophen the Great (or Fake): John Bradley (He's great as Samwell Tarly, and fits in with others GoT actors I have set up in this story as is.**

Chapter 2

Near the Falls of Rauros

Freedom was indeed sweet for Eolyn. The horizon seemed to be a goal now easily reachable, she had her horse and now had a goal in mind. She would make first to the Woods of Mirkwood, where she would see for herself the wondrous peace, tranquility, and beauty of the Elves there. She could just see the city among the trees and hear the music and songs of those fine people. She also had an interest in the finely crafted goods that the Elves were famous for making. She'd always wanted to see the making such famous items as their great gowns, weapons, jewelry, art, musical instruments, and other such commodities. She also wished to perhaps purchase one or two items as keep sakes before moving on to her next destination, Dale, and then Erebor, and then Lorien.

On the way she knew that she was going to see the great Falls of Rauros and the ruins of Amon Hen where the Fellowship of the Ring had fought a party of fearsome Uruk-hai. It was here that Boromir of Gondor, her uncle-in-law's brother, had fallen trying to protect the Hobbits Peregrin Took, the Thain of the Shire, and Merriadoc Brandywine. There were rumors of it being rebuilt as an outpost of Gondor's Northern Rangers, keeping watch for hundreds of miles using the Seat of Seeing. That gave her a bit of dilemma to think on as she rode calmly and quietly down a long straight dirt road above the great River Anduin flowing gently to her right. She knew that word of her adventure was soon to reach the garrisons of both Gondor and Rohan which meant if she was found her adventure would be over.

But she really wanted to see the Falls, they were said to be a truly impressive sight and it was the shortest and most direct route to the Mirkwood. She had her hood down, to allow herself to enjoy the scenery and let the coolness of the spring breeze brush past her face. That also allowed her to hear better. However, as she was thinking to herself she started noticing that the noises of the forest were growing silent. She knew that wasn't natural, usually out here in the untouched wilderness birds should have been chirping, frogs croaking, squirrels and chipmunks, chattering, and all other animals scurrying about. That meant only one thing, she wasn't alone.

She looked behind her and saw nothing at all meaning that she wasn't being followed. There was no disturbed brush, no eyes watching her every move, and yet the feeling of being watched persisted. So, she urged her horse forward and began going at a quick trot. She didn't like the way things were looking in this place, the mere feel of this stretch of road spelled out danger. But as she continued she heard the loud creak and groan of a tree off to her left and right. In front of her fell a great big oak tree with ropes tied to the trunk of the dead tree. It crashed within ten yards of her and her horse, sending a wave of dust and snapped limbs in all directions. Ruby, her horse, reared up, startled by the sudden fallen tree and then Eolyn turned around to see a large pine tree fall into the road behind them, blocking off any escape the way she had come. Then, as she tried to reign in her horse she heard yelling from rough male voices come from all around her. She turned to see several hooded men charging from their hiding places holding an assortment of weapons. There were six altogether, with two holding bows, three holding short spears, and one holding a sword of the Gondorian style. None of them had any markings of a soldier or Ranger of Gondor and the simple fact that she had walked right into an ambush without warning was not a good omen.

They were bandits, and with that word crossing her mind she spurred her horse, back towards the fallen pine blocking her path. She knew she couldn't jump it, but Eolyn might be able to get a running start to jump over the scraggly dead oak. The bandits felt they had an easy catch and pressed Ruby back, jabbing with their spears to keep the horse back. They were not at all uniform or trained, their clothes were dirty and not one of them could have even heard of bathing. From fifteen feet away she could smell them and their horrid breath. Their clothes were mostly black and dark brown with patches of different equally dark and faded colors on top of particularly damaged sections. So that left little doubt in Eolyn's mind as to who they were and what she was going to do to get away from them.

"Alright young missy, off the horse and hands where we can see 'em," their leader, she assumed, spoke roughly as he rested his sword on his shoulder, "No need to resist, ye ain't goin' nowhere."

"Watch me," Eolyn snapped back, reaching to her belt and yanked her sword from its scabbard.

The bandits laughed at her defiance and looked at one another to share in their amusement, but that let their guard down and gave Eolyn her chance. She spurred her horse forward, and swung her sword down at a spear that got a little too close, deflecting it off to the side and gave her a clear run for the fallen obstacle. She saw the two archers begin to draw their bows with arrows pointed at her.

"No! We need her alive! Aim for the horse!" the leader tersely ordered.

Eolyn cringed at the order, Ruby was everything to her, and she would not allow them to harm her prized horse and friend. Spurring forward at the fastest pace that she could horse and rider galloped at the fallen tree and as the first two arrows were loosed at her Eolyn felt Ruby go airborne and fly several feet over the branches of the tree. She continued galloping away, and then turned and panicked as three men on horseback appeared behind her, charging after both of them. She kept her sword out and raced away, but was quite surprised to see that her pursuers were keeping pace with her. Then Eolyn's eyes went wide when she saw one of them holding a crossbow and aimed it at her and Ruby.

She knew that on this trail she was a sitting duck and had to get into the brush where her smaller and nimbler mare could get away and use the trees and underbrush to keep them from shooting her beloved horse and only means of escape. So, in an act of base instinct she swerved to the left, and dove into a side trail nearly smacking her face on branches and leaves overhanging the scantily used game trail. Eolyn spurred her horse forward as fast as possible, immediately feeling Ruby jump a fallen log and bank into a right turn and climb a hill, snorting and breathing loudly as she went up. Her horse was smart and fast enough that all Eolyn needed to do was hold on and keep her head down. As she looked back she could see the shadows and yelling of her pursuers. When she crested the hill, and went down she heard a thump as a crossbow bolt smacked into the tree behind her. Another crossbow bolt sliced through the brush as she looked and saw it hit the ground just behind Ruby's hooves. That got her attention and she realized that the best way to get rid of her pursuers was to get off the trails completely.

Searching for the slightest opening Eolyn tugged the reigns hard left, making horse and rider jump through an opening that could have allowed a horse alone. But with her on the horse the branches swatted at her face as they passed through. She felt the sting of the hits to her face and arms but pressed on. She felt that she might have gotten far enough into the woods and looked back and now didn't hear or see the bandits. She grinned at this triumph but as she turned to start to slow Ruby down to avoid getting the horse hurt in the nasty terrain she instead was faced with a thick low branch. Before Eolyn even understood what had happened she collided head first with the low branch, throwing herself back and out of the saddle. She had blacked out before her limp form tumbled to the ground, falling amongst the ferns and grasses of the forest floor. Her sword was flung from her grasp sticking right into the ground four feet behind her.

Ruby instantly felt the absence of her rider, and slowed and stopped. The red horse trotted back to her master and sniffed at her unconscious form, looking for the smell of life or death. Finding the former, the horse grunted as she nuzzled against Eolyn, trying to revive her. The horse stood there nuzzling and finally mouthing her rider's hair, fingers, and face. Ruby pawed at the ground in annoyance at her master's limp state, but then her ears perked up and her head lifted and her eyes made contact with something moving towards her. The horse defensively lowered her head, shifting weight from one side to another as the figures approached cautiously.

Eolyn didn't know it, but she'd been found, and not by someone she had expected.

* * *

On the River Anduin Road

The road north was not a hub of travel in the least. The small group made up of Eldarion, Eoden, and Borothir had been riding now for quite a while and hadn't seen much of a trace of their runaway Princess. On their trip thus far, they had encountered one lone mail rider who they questioned for information and got nothing of use. By now the sun was high in the afternoon sky, and the heat of the day was now becoming an issue. So, they decided to take a short rest to water their horses and cool off.

None of them had come unprepared, thanks to the prudency of checking their bags for the items they might need. They each had some hard bread, dried fruit, smoked and salted jerky, and a couple of water bladders containing a pint of water. Out here the smart thing to do was not to eat those items right away, instead Borothir was attempting to hunt down a rabbit or two in a small burrow that was right beside their camp. The young Steward was currently blocking off other burrows so that he could smoke out the inhabitants and catch them out of the last remaining hole. He was quite eager to catch something, seeing as he'd always hailed himself as a proficient outdoorsman and hunter. After five minutes of teasing from his royal friends he finally finished up with his preparations.

"Alright, Eldarion, could you hand me a stick from the fire?" Borothir asked, kneeling next to the hole he intended to set a fire in to smoke out lunch.

"Careful, don't burn yourself mighty hunter," Eldarion chuckled as he handed a small stick with half its length flaming.

"Ha ha ha, very funny. We'll see who's laughing when your _highness_ ," he said, emphasizing the word to get to Eldarion, "is eating a nice juicy rabbit for breakfast that you-know-who provided."

"First you have to catch them Borothir," Eoden remarked as he returned from filling everyone's water bladders.

"Oh I will, just you watch," he replied as he tenderly set the stick inside and started to shove green leaves into the hole which instantly began billowing up in thick white smoke, "And tell you what, if I catch them, you have to gut them."

"And if you don't?" Eldarion asked.

"I'll stand the first two watches tonight."

"Deal," Eoden replied.

"Alright, you catch, them, we'll clean them," Eldarion nodded and continued to watch as Eoden walked over to the horses drinking from the river underneath the shade of a small tree.

"Better grab our bows," Eoden said, snatching his weapon from his saddle and notched an arrow and stood within ten feet of the hole that Borothir had hoped would be the death trap for the rabbits inside that hole, "I don't think our crafty hunter can get more than one if they break for cover."

"I don't need a bow, just watch this," Borothir responded, walking over to the hole, and unrolled a small net that was big enough for three or four rabbits to run right into.

"Where'd you get that?" Eldarion asked, standing up and walking over to Borothir.

"Something my father taught me. It lets you make a clean kill without spoiling any of the meat or even keeping the prey alive to kill and eat later."

"Well, all that needs to happen is for those rabbits to run out of there," Eoden said.

"There's one, I can see his eyes, no two of them," Borothir chirped as he looked into the hole.

"Looks like we're getting our hands dirty my friend," Eoden laughed.

"Great, that's just what I needed today," Eldarion grumbled.

Borothir staked the net in place, and backed up away from the burrow and as soon as he did that two large rabbits came tearing out of the hole, tumbling into the net. A shout of triumph went up from the only member of their party not of royal blood as he kneeled to carefully pick up the net and claim his prize.

"And that's how it's done your majesties," Borothir said with a bow and handed both rabbits over to Eldarion still alive, "Now I do believe you have some work to do."

But then a sudden sharp twang rang of a bow out from behind Borothir who whirled around to see a single dead rabbit, bigger than both of the rabbits he'd just caught, stuck to the ground by an arrow.

"I do believe this one's for you Borothir," Eoden chirped smartly, "I caught this one, you can gut it."

Borothir sighed, knowing that it was only fair. And he needn't be cross over that latest catch, after all, more fresh meat for them. So shook his head and pulled the arrow out of the dead rabbit and picked it up to go down to the river to clean the rabbit to prepare it for cooking. The three of them had always been like this, messing about, betting one another that they could not do something and proving that they could or couldn't. However, out here, on their quest, things were different. Their usual jovial mood was shadowed with the task at hand. Eoden was especially grim, this was his little sister out here alone. He'd told the others what her tendencies were when it came to confronting danger head on. And that knowledge and memory had him worried. What if Eolyn met something she couldn't handle? What if that got her hurt, or worse? All of these things plagued the young prince's mind as the three of them quietly and quickly cleaned and skinned their rabbits, saving the skins and tossing the guts in the river.

"We should cook them now," Eldarion said, "We can salt them and eat them as we travel."

"Why not smoke them, they'll last longer," Borothir asked.

"Takes too long, we'll need to move quickly. I don't think Eolyn will stop to camp until nightfall," Eoden responded.

"Alright, Eoden, why don't you stoke the fire, Borothir and I can get them on a spit and we can get cooking."

"Alright, the sooner the better," Eoden replied, and set to work making the fire a bit stronger by adding several twigs and branches into the flames and rapidly built up the heat as Borothir made a small rack after debating with Eldarion that a spit wouldn't be able to cook all three at the same time. So as the food cooked the three of them were left to wait.

However, there as they sat in quiet, a noise began reaching their ears. The first to hear it was Eldarion, but at first he ignored it, thinking it to be something of his own mind's creation. But then, it kept coming back, until he was able to figure out exactly what it was. Then Eoden heard it, and then Borothir heard the noise as well, looking out towards the road where the noise seemed to emanate from.

"You hear that too?" Eldarion asked.

"Sounds like metal against metal, and shrieking, but not from any creature," Borothir mumbled in agreement.

"Arm yourselves! Someone's being attacked by orcs!" Eldarion said after a moment, snatching up his sword, leaving his bow on his saddle. The smooth hiss of the deadly weapon being drawn from its scabbard was a chilling yet exhilarating noise. It was an announcement to all three that their first time engaging in combat had come.

Eoden and Borothir did not hesitate either. Both ran to snatch their shields and Borothir grabbed his longbow and arrows from their horses and ran to follow Eldarion, who had pulled ahead of them. They drew their swords, feeling the cold steel shine in the sun as they got closer and closer to the sounds of battle. The clanging of swords and/or axes rang out as shrieks and growls and yells seemed to come to their ears all the clearer. They crossed the road, and ran deep into the underbrush, scrambling up the steep bank until they came to a ridge and paused as they finally saw the battle which they meant to join.

Below them were three dwarves, fighting furiously against a great horde of orcs. Already there were a dozen of the beasts slain upon the ground, their ugly patchwork of clothes and armor stained with their black blood. But still dozens more seemed to pour from the woods intent on killing the brave dwarves that stood alone against them.

"Let's go," Eldarion said to his friends and raised his sword and charged with Eoden and Borothir right alongside him, "For Gondor!"

Some of the orcs stopped, and looked up at the three men charging downwards with swords and shields ready to attack. Several let loose inhumane growls and shrieks and raised their weapons to attack. The Dwarves chanced a look at their newly arrived help but quickly returned to the task at hand. Borothir drew first blood, and loosed an arrow into the chest of the nearest orc and then sent two more into the next two in rapid succession. But he had to drop it and draw his sword after they had come too close.

Eldarion jumped up of a fallen log and brought his sword up and swung down at an orc that ran forward to face him. His powerful weapon smashed into the orc's wooden spear, cutting through it and cleaved into the beast's head, killing it instantly. Eldarion hit the ground and spun to avoid an orc cutlass swinging at him. He brought his sword up to meet the next attack and promptly shoved the beast back and cut across its chest, killing his second foe. Borothir took on an orc with a large axe by ducking under the orc's swing, dragging his sword across its belly, and then slammed his shield into the orc behind it, finishing it off with a swift stab. He brought his shield up to block a sword strike from another orc and backed up as another blow landed against his shield. He blocked the next strike with his sword, and then threw his shield against the orc, spinning it around and stabbed it in the back, getting a pained shriek from the beast. Eoden found himself facing a pair of orcs at once. He dodged the first one's attack while bring his shield up to block the second attack. Then kicking at the second orc he sent it reeling and brought his shield back to block the first orc's attack and then stabbed up into the orc's neck and quickly swung around, withdrawing the sword and slashed the second one's chest, killing it too.

Eldarion then found himself surrounded by four orcs, but refused to give in. He brought his sword up and blocked two of the orcs and quickly sidestepped to dodge another attack. As he stepped to his right he kicked at the fourth orc making it stumble back. He attacked again, swinging his sword at one of the orcs and was blocked. But he took the hilt of his sword, pivoted against the orc's blade and slammed it into the orc's throat and cut it with a hard push. As the orc fell Eldarion had to spin to dodge another attack that missed him and crushed the head of its comrade. Eldarion used that momentum to sweep the orc's legs out from under it, and brought his sword point down into the orc's stomach. But this left him open, and he saw the fourth beast starting to swing at him. He tried to bring his sword up to block to attack, but he knew it was too late. To Eldarion's amazement however, a small axe smashed into the side of the orc's head, sending the beast toppling to the ground. Eldarion looked to see one of the dwarves holding his and out in the motion of throwing the axe that saved Eldarion's life. He nodded to the prince and continued the fight, smashing an orc with his large double-sided battle axe.

Borothir found himself at odds with the final orc in the field, and swiftly dispatched it after knocking the orc's sword from its grasp and cut its head clean off. Eoden finished off a wounded orc by stomping on its throat, breaking its spine with one swift move. The dwarves were still in the mood for battle, growling and grunting, looking about for more orcs to slay. But there were none, the orcs were either dead or had fled back into the woods. Eldarion was the first to realize this, and snatched a piece of cloth off a dead orc and wiped his blade clean of the black blood of the orcs he'd slain. Eoden and Borothir did likewise as they walked to where Eldarion stood to face the three dwarves who now faced them.

All three were breathing very hard, looking about themselves at the bodies that they now were able to comprehend the fact they had been their killers. The exact instances and movements they'd gone through, the feel of the contact felt through their blades and shields still reverberated through their finger and palms. All of it had happened so fast, split seconds had decided their fates, a fast tiny wrong move would have ended their young lives on the cusp of their greatest chapters. Yet they had lived, and their enemies had not. They'd fought their first battle, and done well.

"Well, I'd like to thank you laddy," the oldest of the Dwarves said, leaning on his axe, "We wouldn't have had such an easy time with those beasts if you boys didn't come along."

This Dwarf was, as all Dwarves are, stocky, and heavily bearded. He was garbed in a maroon undershirt with a dark vest decorated with Dwarf inscriptions along the edges. He had a shirt of chain mail underneath that. His hair and beard were dark brown, braided roughly in thick and long ropes hanging from his head and face. There was a slight trace of gray in his hair, and his face was well wrinkled. His brown eyes were deep and serious, bearing the knowledge and memory of a long life. On his belt he had a small throwing axe, similar to what had saved Eldarion not a few minutes ago. In his hands he had a large axe had pointed ends on both sides, with a heavy hexagonal wooden shaft.

"Why did they attack you?" Eldarion asked.

"They're orcs boy, it is what they do," one of the younger dwarves laughed. He was clothed similarly, with green and brown clothes and a greenish brown cloak. His beard and hair were a dark red, and he held a short spear with hooks on it right below the main spear point. On his belt he had a Dwarven broadsword, along with a small dagger. He was younger than the other two, but not by much.

"Watch your tongue dwarf," Borothir snapped, "Do you know who it is you are talking to?"

"No, you haven't told us your names," the last Dwarf responded. This one had on a dark blue shirt with a green vest. He had a worn black cloak that was faded from good use along its edges. His hair was dark brown, braided into one thick knot of hair falling down his back. His beard was similarly braided, with it going down to his large belly in one braided strand. He had a large spiked Warhammer on his shoulder with a pair of knives on his belt.

"I am Eldarion, son of Elessar," Eldarion responded.

"The Prince of Gondor?" the oldest Dwarf exclaimed, "Well now, I guess we'd better bow lads. We're in the presence of royalty."

"There's no need," Eldarion replied.

"Good we weren't going to. And you two, I guess you'd like to introduce yourselves?"

"I am Eoden, son of Eomer, Prince of Rohan," Eoden responded, getting an interested grunt from the Dwarves.

"I'm Borothir, son of Faramir the Steward of Gondor," Borothir said as well.

"Well now, aren't we graced by some high class?" the youngest Dwarf chuckled.

"And what is your name, master Dwarf?" Eldarion asked testily, "We have given our names. I think this is the part where you tell us yours."

"I am Aiden, son of Doden," the eldest of the Dwarfs introduced himself.

"Gondo, son of Dulin," the Dwarf with the spear followed.

"Furdi, son of Vurdo," the last Dwarf responded.

"Now, if you don't mind me asking, what are two Princes and a son of a Steward doing out here alone?" Aiden asked.

"That is none of your business," Eoden hissed.

"Eoden," Eldarion quietly whispered.

"Our mission is our own Eldarion, we don't need help," Eoden growled.

"But these good Dwarves may have seen the object of our quest," Borothir calmly put in.

"And what would we have seen? There is not very much out in these parts young princes," Furdi asked.

Eldarion sighed, "We're looking for someone. A young girl on a red horse."

"Oh aye, she passed us as we camped last night. She seemed to be in quite a hurry," Gondo chirped up.

"You saw her?" Eoden demanded, "Which way did she travel?"

"Just going down this road, towards the Falls of Rauros," Gondo replied, pointing vaguely in the direction, "That's where we ourselves are headed."

"What is she to you lads?" Aiden asked softly, sensing something else in the urgency in their eyes and tone.

"She is my sister, Princess Eolyn," Eoden said quietly.

"My my, you can't walk three feet in these woods without tripping on royalty!" Furdi laughed.

"Aye, maybe we'll stumble onto an Elven Queen next!" Gondo chuckled as well.

"Shut up!" Aiden snapped, jabbing the shaft of his axe into Gondo's belly.

"What was that for?" Gondo growled back.

"Can't you see that these young lads are concerned for their lost princess?" he replied, pointing at Eoden in particular, "Tell you what, seeing as you helped us out of a jam, why don't we return the favor?"

"What?" Borothir asked.

"He's offering our assistance boy. Do you want it or not?" Furdi snapped.

"Do you have horses?" Eldarion asked.

"Aye, we have ponies."

"We accept your offer Master Dwarf," Eldarion said, "Grab your rides and meet us on the road."

"Alright then," Aiden responded, turning to his friends, "Let's go."

The three Dwarves turned to make their way to their camp as Eldarion, Eoden, and Borothir jogged off to return to their horses. It was at this moment that they all three remembered the scattered orc bodies lying dead upon the ground. They'd done that, the Princes of Gondor and Rohan had spilled the blood of their first opponents. Their lifetime of waiting for the chance to prove themselves in battle had come and they had passed the test. They could fight, they could kill.

But as they made their way back, Eoden couldn't hold in his distaste for accepting help from the Dwarves, "Why did you accept their help Eldarion? We're royalty, we don't need their help."

"I wouldn't turn down help when it's given freely cousin," Borothir replied, "Especially from someone as stubborn as a Dwarf."

"And we all know how they can be," Eldarion said, remembering a visit to Moria with his father.

The three of them reached their campsite and instantly Borothir saw that their lunch was now well and truly burnt. He grabbed one of the extra crispy rabbits and groaned unhappily.

"Well, so much for our fresh meat."

"Soon my friend, that won't matter," Eoden responded, mounting his horse, "We'll have caught up to my sister and our quest will be finished."

"If it weren't for the danger that looms out here I would be disappointed for it to be over so soon. I was just beginning to enjoy it out on a quest," Borothir chuckled as he kicked the fire out.

"We're the sons of heroes my friends. Let the danger come!"

* * *

Near the River Anduin

Eolyn had not really dreamed when she was unconscious. To her, one minute she had been evading pursuit from a group of bandits, the next she was waking up underneath a white sheet hanging over her head. Her vision was cloudy and her head hurt a great deal. Eolyn felt the warmth of a blanket over her body and the soft comfort of something soft under her head. Her first thought was that she had been found and captured by the marauders and spirited away to their camp. But she had lost them, and these accommodations were far too nice for a band of thieves to give her.

As she lay there she lifted her hand to her forehead to feel a cotton bandage wrapped around her head. It was slightly moist to the touch and Eolyn brought her hand into view to see a light sheen of blood upon her fingertips. She was quite concerned with that sight, but then became distracted by the sounds of talking coming from outside of whatever she was in. The voices weren't the gruff threatening tones of the bandits that Eolyn had evaded, they sounded far more normal and relaxed. The orange glow of a campfire colored the white sheet to her right in a warm flickering glow. Eolyn could smell the scent of food wafting to her nose, which awoke her stomach with an angry growl. But the young princess did not know whether to get up, call out, or even consider escape. There were so many unknowns that making a decision was impossible.

However, she didn't exactly need to make a decision, for a shadow appeared against the white cover and walked towards her. She felt her heart beating rapidly as the figure's soft footfalls came nearer and nearer. She saw the hand come up to the opening of the cloth and shut her eyes tightly as the cloth was drawn back.

"I know you're awake miss. I can tell by your breathing," an entertained voice spoke to her. Eolyn felt fear, she didn't want to acknowledge him, but after a few seconds the presence had not left, "It's alright, I mean you no harm."

She hesitated, but let her eyes open bit by bit, until she saw the upper body of a man standing in front of her. He seemed to be a bit older than her, with a thick brown beard and long unkempt hair. He wore a gray and dirty loose long-sleeved shirt with a brown vest. He had a kind of bubbly friendliness to him, the kind that seemed to make Eolyn calm down from the near panicked state she had been in.

"Now, how do you feel?" he asked.

"Who-who are you?" Eolyn asked, not quite trusting this man.

"Oh, where are my manners? I am Stophen the Great," he declared with a proud flourish.

"More like Stophen the Fake!" another voice called out from outside, accompanied by laughing from several voices.

Ignoring them Stophen continued, "I'm what you would call a travelling wizard, of sorts. One of my companions found you with a pretty nasty bump on your head. So, as any wizard would do, I have fixed you up. Now, back to original question, how do you feel?"

"My head hurts," Eolyn sighed, rubbing the sore bandaged spot.

"Well I could figure that out, I mean are you nauseous? Are you feeling ill? Details, come on details," Stophen responded.

"I am a little bit hungry," Eolyn whispered shyly.

"Well we can rectify that really quickly. We've got a great stew in the pot right now. I'm sure we have enough to share. Now, let's get you up."

Eolyn forced herself up into a sitting position, fighting down the feeling of nausea from lying down for so long. Stophen carefully guided her out until her feet were hanging off the edge of what she now realized was a large covered wagon. Off to her right she saw a couple of tents set up underneath the cover of large trees with a fire burning beneath a large cauldron. Surrounding the fire were four small figures. They appeared, from a distance, to be the size of children and yet the voices coming from those figures were the tones of adults. Eolyn was doubtlessly confused as she walked towards the fire and was seated on a stump. She instantly had a bowl placed in her hands and looked up to see a young, adult face with a big smile on it.

"I would like to introduce you to my companions," Stophen said, pointing at the four small people.

"You're Hobbits!" Eolyn stuttered, finally figuring it out.

"Hey she figured it out!" one of the Hobbits said elatedly.

"That's a first," one of the others replied.

"That is William Brandybuck," Stophen said, pointing at a Hobbit with blonde curly hair and a white shirt, "Peter Toughfoot," this time to a Hobbit with black hair and a brown jacket, "Doro Demgee," pointing to one with light brown curly hair wearing an apron with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, "And lastly Kapper Creekwine."

Eolyn looked at all the Hobbits in turn, taking in the different faces, the four Hobbits all seemed to be curious about her. She took a few tentative scoops of the tasty stew she'd been given as the Hobbits watched her. However, that soon got a bit annoying.

"It's a little difficult to eat when you are all watching me like that," she said, getting a few uncomfortable coughs from the Hobbits.

"Well uh…" the one named William started, "We're just curious is all."

"About what?" Eolyn asked.

"Who you are for one," the Hobbit named Peter replied gruffly.

"Well, I suppose I should at least introduce myself," Eolyn said, and debated using a fake name, but that wouldn't do much good, "My name is Eolyn."

"Hmm…Eolyn, a Rohirric name, a noble one at that. I suspected you were of Rohan judging by the way your horse refused to leave you along with the make of the sword we found nearby," Stophen said lowly.

"Y-yes I am from Rohan, why?" she asked.

"Just had to settle a bet, pay up Peter," Stophen chuckled.

"Fine," Peter growled, digging a silver coin from his pocket and flipped it over to Stophen.

"What are you doing out here all alone? These woods are dangerous for anyone travelling alone," Doro asked, "If you don't mind me asking."

"I'd rather not talk about it," Eolyn mumbled.

"Oh, well that's too bad, I bet Kapper that you were running away from home."

"No, it's not that," Eolyn shook her head, "I just…like I said I don't want to talk about it," she said again, thinking better of spilling her whole story and her arranged marriage and the need for her to go out one last time on a grand adventure.

"Well, your business is your business Eolyn," Stophen said kindly.

"What about you?" Eolyn asked.

"Pardon?"

"You said you were a wizard. But one of you called him a fake? What do they mean?"

"Well, I'm currently in the process of learning to become a wizard. It's not an easy feat to do so. Which is why I travel, watching and learning all there is to know about this world. But thankfully, I have a headstart. I have the utmost understanding of mathematics and chemistry which allows me to create powerful potions of all kinds. You see, knowledge, is the first step to becoming a great wizard. But as I travel I must make enough money to live off of, to pay for my oxen, and the ingredients that I make my potions out of which I in turn sell. And on the way I have met some friends, and made a few enemies."

Stophen went on to tell how he'd gotten himself into trouble in the Shire and not only gotten himself kicked out, but William, Peter, Doro, and Kapper as well. He told of how he'd been to places like Erebor, Dale, Rivendell, the Mirkwood, Edoras, and several cities of Gondor. The man was quite knowledgeable, and the stories of his adventures, and misadventures, with his Hobbit friends were exciting and funny.

"I wish I could do what you do. Go where you want, nobody to tell you what to do or how to do it. Just to have that freedom is something I truly envy," Eolyn sighed.

"Are you not from Rohan my dear? Isn't freedom what makes someone of Rohan who they are?" Stophen asked.

"Not in my case."

"You're a princess, aren't you?" Kapper asked after a moment.

Eolyn looked up at him with a surprised face, and that was all the confirmation the young Hobbit needed.

"So, you say you are not running away. Yet you are a Princess of Rohan? Is there something else that has driven you to take this path?" Stophen asked.

"I was engaged to be married to Eldarion, the Crown Prince of Gondor. I had no say, no warning, so I decided to leave and experience life one last time before the bonds of marriage were sealed forever."

"You were going to be a Queen? Why would you want to run from that?" Doro asked.

"Doro!" Peter snapped, swatting him upside the head, "Did you not just hear what she said?"

"What? Oh…right, sorry."

Eolyn felt that nagging feeling of guilt rise within her again. This conversation had brought up feelings of doubt and regret that she had thought she'd dealt with. She did not want to stay here and talk about it, she feared if those feelings resurfaced she would not be able to carry on. She simply had to get away.

"I should go," Eolyn said, standing up, "Thank you for your hospitality Stophen, Master Hobbits. But I must be going."

"What? Right now?" William asked, surprised and concerned for Eolyn.

"I wouldn't leave just yet Princess, this forest is quite dangerous at night especially on horseback. The road is crawling with thieves and cutthroats. It would probably wiser and safer for you to wait here until morning," Stophen said, "Especially with that injury of yours."

"Waiting is something that I have done all my life, I appreciate your concern but I must be leaving," Eolyn responded, "Thank you again Stophen. I wish you luck in your mission to become a wizard."

Eolyn walked over to Ruby, untying her reigns from a rope strung to hold her in place and checked to see that her bags were as she'd left them. So, with that done she pulled herself up into the saddle and looked back at the confused Hobbits and grim Stophen. With a polite nod she turned her horse and walked off into the coolness of the forest following the sounds of the river to find the road.

After a few minutes of ducking underneath branches and going over fallen trees Eolyn quickly found the road. Thankfully it was not far from the camp at all and allowed her to get back into some semblance of a rhythm again. Eolyn simply needed to travel, just to make up some ground and return to the feeling of freedom that came with being out on your own. She stopped as she got onto the road however, and looked back down the road in the very real contemplation of returning, of going back the way she'd come. She'd already had a close call with those bandits, she'd nearly had her journey ended as a captive. Perhaps it is time to go back, she thought thinking of the warm thoughts of home and family and friends that awaited her. But her heart felt another tug, the road ahead of her spelled out a once in a lifetime opportunity. The time for adventure was still here, the opportunity was not gone, she still had her chance. Home could wait, she had come this far, faced danger, and survived, and even made some new friends.

With that conviction she turned her horse, and started down the road once more. Moving on down the path going up and down, around the rough terrain the night's dark terrors nagged at her mind. But then, Ruby began getting anxious, nervous. Her ears began twitching, and her breathing became snorts of sharp inhaling. Eolyn felt that something was wrong as well, and a snap of a twig to her left confirmed it.

Before Eolyn could act on her instinct she felt a heavy weight drop down upon her head and shoulders and arms. Her vision was obscured as a large leaf covered net dropped from the overhanging trees to envelop both horse and rider. Ruby reared back, desperately trying to rid herself of the net. The horse's erratic and panicked actions were too sudden and powerful for Eolyn to hang on. She fell back onto the ground, further entangling herself in the net as she fell and tried scrambling to her feet. But as soon as she got even remotely close to having herself free of the net she felt powerful hands grab her upper arms and hands. Course laughing and a familiar stench met her senses and she looked up to see a familiar sight.

"Thought you could get away didn't you girl?" the bandit leader said his hand grabbing her by the jaw as his goons held her on her knees and motionless. Terror froze her in place, and she was unable to will herself to fight back.

"Is this her boss?" a deep course voice asked from behind Eolyn as she tried to struggle and get loose.

A lantern came around the corner, nearly blinding her at first as it was held up to her face.

"This is her, I'd recognize a Princess when I saw one. Looks like we're rich men lads!" the leader said, snapping his fingers. At that signal Eolyn felt thick rough rope wrapping itself around her wrists and arms tightening to the point where she had to bite back whimpers of pain as the rough material cut into bare skin. Her mind began working now, and she knew that the gig was up, she was pretty much caught, despite her attempts to resist. But she remained defiant nonetheless.

"You think my father will pay your ransom. The moment you deliver your ransom demand you've all signed your death warrants," she growled.

"Oh I believe you. King Eomer is well known for not giving into threats. He'd have us all drawn and quartered before the full moon."

"So why bother ransoming me when you'll get nothing but cold steel in return?" Eolyn grinned, thanking the ancestors that her father had a powerful reputation.

"Who said we were going to ransom you to your father? Not when someone else is willing to pay handsomely for a Princess of Rohan," he chuckled darkly, turning and walking back towards the woods.

"Come on your highness," one of her captors laughed as he lifted her to her feet.

Eolyn knew that this was the worst possible scenario for her. As the daughter to the King of Rohan the amount of gold that would be paid for her was substantial, but if that ransom demand was sent to her father she knew that these men would all be dead within a week and her returned to Edoras safe and sound. But if she were to be ransomed to someone or something else entirely, all hope for rescue was gone. She had to do something, running was not possible, fighting was even more remote, she had no choice but do what Eolyn had set out to prove she didn't need. She had to call for help. She gathered in a large breath as she struggled against her captors, tugging, pushing, and thrashing to keep from being whisked away.

"HELP! HELP! H-mph!" Eolyn cried out, knowing that her calls would reach for several miles in this wilderness, hopefully reaching the ears of someone who could come to rescue her. The hand that clamped down around her mouth was about as foul tasting as mud and its stone cold grip did the job of silencing her.

"Shut her up!" the leader hissed, now very alarmed at the sudden cries from his captive. Eolyn gave him a confident glare, knowing that her attempts may yet prove to be just enough to be the end of their scheme. He saw this from her and stepped forward as he drew a gleaming knife and held it to her throat. The cold steel sent a chill through her body at its threatening touch.

"What if someone heard that boss?" one of the goons responded from behind her.

"What about the Eastern Rangers? If one of their patrols heard that we're finished!"

"Are you yellow-bellied cowards through?"

"Just sayin'," one of the men whimpered. This fear gave Eolyn new reason to be confident, and glared smugly at the bandit in front of her.

"You think you've won don't you Princess?" he hissed as Eolyn felt her jaw get wrenched open and a thick length of cloth get tied tightly between her teeth, muffling her cries.

"Well let me tell you something. Out here, nobody can you scream."

But lucky enough, someone did.

 **The beauty of a rewrite, most of the story is already written, so I just need to add on as needed or take off as needed. I'll try and get a few more chapters redone and posted, hopefully I can get to Soldiers of the Republic this weekend after one or two more.**

 **Next Chapter Preview: The rescue is underway, will it be soon enough? Or even work?**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Bandit Hideout near Falls of Rauros

The trek through the wilderness hadn't been the most pleasant for Eolyn. After having a bag tossed over her head and tied around her neck to keep it there she was tossed, kicking and squirming, over the back of a horse. All that struggling had unfortunately reopened the cut on her brow and she could feel the blood seeping warmly down her forehead and temple. The blood caused part of the rough canvas bag to stick uncomfortably to her head and rub against her face and hair. But she ignored this and continued to struggle, trying to possibly get the horse she was on to buck and take off where she might hopefully be found by someone else who wouldn't try to kidnap her. But the man riding the horse kept it in check and her struggles did nothing but exhaust the young princess who was just too tired to resist by the time they'd stopped.

"Put her in the back room," the voice of their leader called out as she was slung over someone's shoulders, "Make sure the little princess is comfortable."

Coarse laughter followed that jab as she heard a door open and felt the guy carrying her duck down to get in through the door with her going in feet first. Once inside she heard nothing except what was being said outside and by those behind her as they walked in after her and the man carrying her. She could see light filter in through the fabric of the bag over her head, sometimes coming in slightly reddened by the blood that now seemed to be sprinkled chaotically upon the canvas.

It wasn't long until she was tossed down to the ground less than nicely to land on her side and her blindfold was loosened and removed. She blinked back the dark spots from having light flood back to her vision and saw the retreating forms of the man who'd dropped her leaving the room. As he left the leader walked into the room and kneeled in front of her. Eolyn felt slightly lightheaded both from the rush of blood going from her head after her having her head down so long along with the cut that hadn't sealed because of the roughness of the bag constantly rubbing against the cut.

"Now," he said through a mouthful of freshly cooked fish, casually pointing his dagger at her, "Make no noise, make no attempts to escape and you will not be touched. But if you try to call for help or try to escape we will catch you and you will suffer, our employer never said what condition you had to be in. But I suspect they will pay more for a virgin than they would otherwise, but not much. Are we understood?"

As he spoke he trailed the knife down her chin and neck to the strings of her shirt and popped the top knot. He then parted her shirt's unfastened strings to show the bare skin beneath. Once the cold steel touched the vulnerable soft skin just above her bossom he held the point right at her chest to emphasize his point when he asked if he was understood. Eolyn tried hard to quell a small whimper that was muffled through the gag tied between her teeth, but failed to do so. It was a sign of a weakness that only the threat of real harm could bring to the surface.

Up until now Eolyn had been angry and defiant, but now she felt very real fear creeping into her blood as she saw the sadistic and dangerous smile on the man's face. The fear plainly showed, and was enough to satisfy him, as he withdrew the knife the same way it had come to rest, dragging the cold pointed steel up her skin, over her neck and off the bottom of her chin in a cold thin glide that sent shivers emanating out from where the blade had touched. It was really the first time in her life Eolyn had felt this kind of fear, this was not her father or mother simply angered with her, or her tutor threatening to make her work or read for longer because of negligence, these were men who could do anything and would do anything without a guilty conscience.

The door behind him was shut and thus left Eolyn alone in the dark with no friends and no help, only the dark of the future which looked more and more bleak. She could hear them talking amongst themselves in loud tones as she tried to squirm over to the back where she could lean upright against the wooden wall more comfortably and think clearly. She didn't want to be here when these men's employer arrived and whisked off to become a slave for some barbarian and never see home or family again. She didn't care at this point if there was the risk of bodily harm if she were caught attempting to escape, Eolyn was refusing to give into the fear she could still feel creeping within herself as she heard her captors speaking and laughing as she tried pulling and twisting against the ropes binding her hands. There wasn't much movement to the ropes as they were bound far too tightly for even her thin wrists to slip through.

Eolyn could still feel the trickling of the blood against her temple as it slowly ebbed down her smooth skin as the bleeding tapered off and stopped after a little while. The dried blood upon her forehead and brow was thinly dried and with every movement she felt her skin sticking together from the dried blood cracking and giving way to the skin movement beneath it. Thankfully her eyes had remained untouched and she scanned the bare room for anything that might prove to be of use in aiding her planned escape. There were a few old planks leaning into the corner to her right along with a few chests and boxes with old broken locks dangling from them. There were a few skins from unknown animals nailed to the walls around her and stacked three feet high to her left, making this more of a storeroom than a real cell. There was, however, nothing sharp of serrated that could aid in cutting the binds on her hands and ankles, preventing all loose movement for her. But she did realize one thing that could be of use, the floor was dirt, and as she leaned against the wall she could feel her fingers digging through the soil and felt the wall underneath end and knew that she had a way to escape once she could get herself untied. But looking around, that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon.

Above Falls of Rauros

The river was a quiet place this far into the wild, no fishermen haunted its slow current. The banks were gravel and the forest above them were quiet. This was a wide and slow portion of the river, relatively near to a road on the western side of the river, a few dozen yards from the bank. Standing admiring this fine sight in the moonlight was a woman in full battle armor, a decorated steel cuirass, thin articulating steel strips on her shoulders over a long chainmail suit under a red tunic on her that fell to her knees where she had shin guards and knee guards and leather boots. She held the basket-hilt of her falchion in a leather scabbard on a steel-studded belt. Every piece of décor was odd, it was dragon themed.

Her long straight hair was a brilliant bright red, unusual for the folk who lived in these parts, and her eyes were a deep dark green. Her skin was slightly pale and smooth. On her face was a confident smile as she surveyed the opposite shore for any signs of opposition or life. She found none, and raised her gloved hand into a fist and opened it and waved it forward.

The sounds of clinking metal surrounded and enveloped her as hundreds of men in armor of black-stained steel marched from the woods where they'd been hidden. The first line of them carried a large wood and steel crossbow who ran forward, kneeling a foot from the water's edge with eyes sharp for anyone who might have seen them coming. Their kettle helmets and armor allowed for it, they each had a hood and tunic of leather and short-sleeved suit chain mail and a red tunic. Their weapons were of a new and relatively unseen design for Middle Earth. At the end of the crossbow, where the metal bow and wooden shaft ended and where the heavy armor piercing bolts were sent downrange was a metal loop where the soldiers could loop their feet into and pull back on the string to reload their weapon.

These troops wore a tall and flat rectangular four-foot by two-foot shield looped over their shoulder to protect them so that they could turn their backs on a target and reload with their large shields as protection. Their shields were colored red with a red and black dragon's head painted onto the shield's face, the head of the dragon facing out, at the opponent. A large steel knob was also on the shield where another symbol set the soldiers' units apart from one another. They also carried a similar sword to the ones their leader wore on her belt, but the hilts were not nearly as elaborate, being only enough to loop around to protect as a thin hand guard for the soldiers.

Those troops who didn't have crossbows carried a long eight-foot long winged spear with a long ten-inch penetrating head and six-inch crescent double-edged blade facing up towards the point and a more wieldable three-and-a-half-foot tall kite shield in their right hands with their shields held across their chests and a sword in a scabbard by their side. They stood shoulder to one another in tight box formations. At the head of each formation was a man carrying a carved wooden relief of a dragon with its wings outstretched and head held down with the chin on its neck. But the most interesting part was in place of its eyes were two carved red jewels that glowed a dull red in the dark of the night. Underneath the black dragon mini-statue was a set of metal plates with painted letters of a unique language that was returning to Middle Earth for the first time since the Second Age. Each line of letters signified the individual unit and its captain to whoever could read it.

These troops each had a suit of banded mail with the chain mail backing with riveted articulating strips of metal armor over it on the torso and shoulder armor plates. They had shin/knee guards and splinted armor on their thighs and arm guards on their forearms and leather gloves and hand guards. Over their armor they have red tunics with black dragon emblem that went down to their knees. Their heads were protected by a barbute helmet with black scarves pulled up over their noses, allowing only their eyes to be visible behind the T-shaped opening. They were imposing figures. But the crowning feature was on top of the helmet. It appeared to be a much more simplified dragon with the mouth open as it faced forward with glowing red stones in place of its eyes while the rest of the body melded back into the smooth metal surface as it trailed to the back with the wings broadening out to thicken and give some texture to the top of the helmet.

These soldiers numbered in the hundreds as they stood there, with mounted knights wearing a full suit of metal plate armor and fully encased and feather-topped domed great helms with ornate dragon crests holding somewhat different weaponry, mainly a ten-foot lance they carried in the stead of a halberd and a single edged falchion sword instead of a kopis with ornate basket hilts. Their status was also given due to their red capes with fur lining near the collar with gold and silver etching on their armor and helmets. They had their heater shields on their backs with their personal heraldry on them. More powerful and wealthy knights and nobles had more ornate armor and helmets and capes.

All around and behind within the woods, the glowing eyes of the dragons on the helmets in the dark of the forest signaled that there were many more yet to reveal themselves. Some of them were hefting large flatboats towards the water's edge along with lengths of rope as their comrades awaited their time to cross in disciplined quiet. As they did this they were watched by their leader, who had now mounted onto a white horse brought to her by a cloaked soldier with silver edging on his armor and a silver dragon crest on his helmet. As she watched her Legions start to cross the River Anduin she heard the rattle of the rocky riverbank beneath horse's hooves coming behind her.

"Your majesty, all Legions are prepared to cross on your command," a red-haired and heavily red-bearded man stated in a deep foreboding voice. His armor was decorated with the likeness of skulls upon silver, black, and red armor that formed the shape of a chiseled abdomen with segmented plates on his shoulders. He had a black cape with an elongated skull with narrowed eyes staring at anyone who watched it long enough.

"Cross at once brother," she replied in a smooth voice that emanated of calm confidence, "Once on the other side word will spread like fire of our movement. The Armies of Gondor will descend on us within days."

"I am not worried about these Men of the West. Let them come," the man growled.

"We mustn't rush a decisive battle yet, first we must weaken them. Once the army crosses march west, for Rohan."

"Yes your majesty," came the loyal reply, "When do you think they will know we're here?"

"They already do," she smiled, "The eyes of Amon Hen are watching."

"Good, then they know their doom approaches."

"Send forth the Skulls, wipe the garrison of Amon Hen off the face of the world. Make sure they know that it is Elda, the Queen of the Men of Drakonis on the East Shore that comes for them. Any word of our Reapers and their mission?"

"Not as of yet your majesty."

"Make certain General, much depends upon it. We cannot allow Eomer King to think with a rational head. But with his daughter in our grasp, he may just rush himself into a battle that he will regret."

"And Gondor will be without an ally, leaving us to deal with Elessar alone without his allies and friends. All he'll have is a weakened Rohan led by a whelp of a Prince."

"Vengeance will soon be ours General, soon the Dragon Standard shall fly over this land, and we shall cleanse this world of all of those who spat upon our people those thousands of years ago. They may have forgotten the Dragon Kin, but when I'm done, they will remember us forever."

Amon Hen, Outpost of the Rangers of Rauros

As they watched, and foresaw their new war eyes kept a close watch from on the great hill where the Rangers of Rauros stood a vigilant watch. Their Captain sat at the Seat of Seeing, seeing and hearing all that was being said. Now he took action, and rose from his seat where his officers waited for him.

His name was Captain Firfion, son of Denadein, and was well known for his absolute mastery of the art of forest fighting and using the strengths of his rangers to maximum effect. He'd won renown as a young man in the War of the ring fighting for Faramir until he'd been injured in battle at Osgiliath and was one of a handful of Rangers to survive the charge against Osgiliath because he was unconscious in the House of Healing and was barely able to take part in the battle for Minas Tirith by sitting in his bed at the wall and firing down with his longbow for more than two days without food or water or rest. That scar remained on his left cheek and neck. He'd shortly afterward, at the recommendation of Faramir, been given command of a new force of trained Rangers to man the old outpost at Amon Hen and to patrol the Anduin River Road and deal with orcs and bandits, which he'd done well.

He was a thin man, but strong with a hoarse and commanding voice that spoke with enough presence to gain the attention of anyone within earshot. He was able to command the utmost respect with sword and bow, and even more able with the command of his men. Under his command the Rangers had wiped out an orc horde numbering over six hundred that had taken up residence in Amon Hen itself and easily dealt with them with the two hundred Rangers at his disposal without the loss of a man. He now faced his own new and far more dangerous task with this unprecedented invasion.

"Gondor is now at war," Firfion whispered to himself, "Send word to Minas Tirith and Edoras with all haste, an army from the east numbering seventy thousand has crossed the Anduin and is marching on Rohan. Don't waste a rider, use the pigeons. The rest of you muster your men immediately we must get to the Anduin Road before they do."

"Sir we only have two hundred men within our post, and most of them are on patrol. By the time we have mustered the enemy will be across the river in full strength."

"I don't intend to meet them, I intend to shadow them and keep close watch on them and strike whatever small patrols they send to scout and forage ahead of their main body. The King must know what he is up against," he responded as he walked down the stairs with his officers behind him, "But there's worse. They are looking for Princess Eolyn of Rohan to capture and use as leverage against Eomer King."

"What?!" one of the Lieutenants responded with nearly a yell, "She is in Minas Tirith."

"That isn't all, yesterday I received word from the White Tower that Princess Eolyn had ridden off on her own going north from Minas Tirith. Why is not my business, but what is our business is that our Prince, the Son of the Steward, and the Prince of Rohan have ridden in pursuit of her, by now they'll be near here. We cannot allow them to catch them out here or the lines of succession to the Kingdoms of the West will be threatened. Now, sound the recall."

The officers were speechless at that, and simply followed their Captain to the stone and wooden shack that was both their barracks and armory. As they walked in the horn bearer was awoken and began sounding the call loudly for the Rangers of Rauros to return to their outpost with all haste.

All of them knew what their duty was and that their Prince and next Steward were out here in great danger along with the heir to the throne of their ally and their own future queen on top of that. So after rousing their men they prepared to become the first Men of Gondor to meet this new enemy and save their Prince from a danger he probably didn't even know was waiting right around the corner.

River Anduin Road, Below the Falls of Rauros

The six riders rode down the road at a quick trot with nothing but the clopping of their horses' hooves upon the dirt road to accompany them along with the loud arguing of the three new additions to their little band. It became quite clear which of the Dwarves was what type of person early on. Aiden was their leader, Furdi was the smart ass, and Furdi would always be the one to steer the conversation in the direction of food.

"My Lord Eldarion, when do you plan on stopping for the night?" Gondo asked.

"I don't," Eldarion responded smartly.

"And why would that be Prince?" Furdi asked grumpily.

"Because the Princess of Rohan is not one to stop Master Dwarf. Hence, we must travel as long as we can and stop to only rest the horses," Eoden replied.

"Truly she wouldn't travel in these woods at night and alone?" Aiden asked, "These roads are perilous for horses and people alike with many pitfalls and hidden hazards. Orcs still roam the Anduin's length, albeit they are not as common as the thieves and bandits that she is more than likely to encounter."

"The Rangers of Rauros have dealt with them," Borothir responded to that, "My tutor Firfion is their Captain. He wiped out an Orc horde just last year at Amon Hen. And the Rangers patrol these woods."

"Yes, they do, but the thieves are crafty, and their numbers are great. He can take care of a hundred and there'd still be more to deal with," Furdi responded.

"And with someone as important as you lads it would not be wise to walk yourselves into a trap for the sake of speed," Gondo added, "Just stopping for the night will do wonders. That way you can regain your strength with a good warm meal and allow the horses to rest and feed themselves. You see, you are only as good as your last meal. That's what my father always said."

"Your father always said pass the pork," Furdi replied, "With you saying 'me next' you fat oaf."

"It is not my fault that I have a taste for the finer things in life, you should find your own taste. Like shutting up!" Gondo yelled back.

"Oh be careful Gondo, when you get off your pony you might cause an earth quake."

"Shut up you fool, before you say something you're going to regret," Gondo growled.

"Master Dwarves I don't think-," Eldarion started, but was totally blown off by the arguing Dwarves.

"I'll show you shutting up!" Furdi snapped, grabbing Gondo by the cloak next to him and pulled and yanked the larger Dwarf from his saddle and followed him down as punches began flying as the Dwarves started to fight over something that so trivial to the three men watching with confused silence.

"Furdi, Gondo!" Aiden snapped, getting off his pony and walked over.

Eoden brought his horse over to Eldarion and sighed with anger seeping from his tone.

"Eldarion we'll never catch Eolyn if we have to keep dealing with these three," he whispered as Aiden started pulling the two apart.

"I'm tempted to agree my friend," Borothir added, "They just can't help us."

"We should just ride on, apologize if we must, but we must ride," Eoden urged.

"They did bring up a good point. These woods are dangerous my friends. They may be useful, especially in an ambush which is very possible. And…and if Eolyn herself is caught by bandits we may need their skills and numbers."

"Eolyn will never allow herself to be caught," Eoden snapped, "She's the finest rider on the Mark with the fastest horse yet seen in Middle Earth."

"That may be true, but on this road speed is not always enough. One must be able to fight when they must and do you honestly believe your sister can fight off a band of thieves on her own?" Eldarion said, "Do you, Borothir?"

"I see your point," Borothir conceded.

"Once we're to Amon Hen we can part ways. Hopefully we can use the Seat of Seeing to scan the land for Eolyn. Once that is done we can ride quickly and close the distance," Eldarion responded, "They did say they were on their way to Amon Hen anyway. This way we may also save a potential friendship and not insult the Dwarves. There is always a political connotation to what we do and say."

"Very well," Eoden nodded.

"That's enough!" Aiden finally bellowed and grabbed both fighting companions by their beards and slammed their heads together.

"Ow!" both yelled.

"You are holding up the young highnesses' quest you fools! Now mount up."

Then, a bellowing call echoed across the night and silenced all six of them. The Horn of Gondor was not a horn to be mistaken. It was a well-known and often heard signal within Gondor's borders calling out to distant patrols and signaling in between outposts. Eldarion even had a horn of his own but left it back at Minas Tirith but he knew that Borothir didn't go anywhere without his own horn and Eoden held his own Horn of Rohan on a string over his shoulder resting upon his hip.

"The Horn of Gondor, who's sounding it?" Eoden asked.

"And where is it coming from?" Furdi agreed.

"These woods obscure sound, it is impossible to tell," Aiden growled.

"More importantly why?" Borothir whispered.

"Quickly, we have to get to Amon Hen!" Eldarion ordered quickly, spurring his horse forward.

The group urged their horses forward, moving along at quite a clip until they started a steep climb up the path that was well used by travelers and Rangers making their way to and from their post upon the hill where the Seat of Seeing watched Gondor's borders for a long way. But as they began to ride up the hill a sudden and large ball of orange fire rose from the south and a rumbling boom met their ears.

"That fire, that's not natural at all," Borothir said, looking at the flames that now rose less than two miles from their place.

"It could be your Rangers calling for aid or signaling an attack," Furdi said.

"No, it's like any fire I've ever seen," Borothir shook his head, "Too large, too dangerous to be made by any Ranger."

"Then let's make haste, we must find out what's happening. Men are in danger," Eoden said, spinning his horse around and started back down the road, following the smoke to where they would find something else entirely.

Bandit Hideout, Near River Anduin

Eolyn hadn't known she'd fallen asleep. She wasn't exactly comfortable leaning against her improvised prison wall and had been too worried and paranoid to even contemplate falling asleep. But she had dozed off from complete exhaustion for a short while, until she was startled awake by a small rustling behind her, on the other side of the wall. She strained her ears to listen as the noise closer then stopped just outside the wall. Then, she heard a metallic squeaking noise against the wood and she felt her shirt get pushed by a sharp jab that surprised her with a small squeak. And then, Eolyn heard a voice that she couldn't have been happier to hear than in that moment.

"Eolyn? You there?" came the voice of none other than Stophen, the wizard in training she'd met just hours before. She carefully shuffled over to see a hole within the wooden plank where she saw Stophen's eye looking inside.

"Is it her Stophen?" another voice whispered, it was Doro, one of the Hobbits.

"Shutup Doro," the voice of William said in a testy tone.

"We're all here, stay calm and quiet Eolyn, we'll get you out. Eolyn felt a new feeling of joy and hope spread through her as she realized that someone had heard her calls for help and now she had a real chance of escaping for the first time since being captured. So, she tried making gestures with her head to get them to hurry up and get her out. She knew that these bandits were waiting on a prospective buyer who could show up at any time and they might very well get caught and killed. Obviously, speed was critical here at this point in time.

She couldn't hear very much from her captors and started to hear a quiet digging noise as the Hobbits and Stophen began digging with quite a bit of vigor and she quickly looked back and forth to see and listen if her rescuers had been discovered. She could see a few small wisps of dust rise from an ever-larger hole leading into her room and soon was able to see that the Hobbits and Stophen were using branches and their bare hands to break and shovel out the earth beneath the wall and it was working well.

"Here, let me in there," the voice of Peter said quietly and soon the black-haired Hobbit began squirming into the opening and crawled through after a first failed attempt, "We did warn you."

She couldn't help but smile into her gag as the young Hobbit drew a small knife and kneeled quietly in front of her. He then pulled the gag out of her mouth allowing her to breathe deeply and whisper to him.

"Thank you, but we need to hurry. They're expecting someone to sell me to."

"Right, not a moment to lose," Peter said and moved behind her and began cutting her bindings with quick precision.

Once that was done Eolyn was allowed to finally stretch her muscles and get to the process of escaping from this place. She quickly began pulling out bits of dirt as Peter broke it up with his knife, being careful to avoid hitting the hands of his fellows who were on the other side digging it out so that Eolyn could fit through the opening.

"Okay, try getting through your majesty," Kapper whispered as he stuck his head down into the hole so that Eolyn could see the young Hobbit.

"Go," Peter gestured, standing up to face the door just in case they were discovered. Eolyn knew that if they were discovered to be aiding her escape Peter would surely fight and die first among them and it would have been her fault. She wanted very much to make him go first so he would not have to face death for her but she saw that arguing now was the worst possible time to do so.

So, without a word, she laid on her back and pushed down into the hole where her head came out from under the wooden wall into a bright moon lit night where the faces of Stophen, Doro, William, and Kapper were waiting. She pushed her shoulders and arms through and felt William and Kapper grab her underneath the armpits and start pulling her out as Stophen got behind her and helped as Doro kept watch. Soon her torso was out, followed by her legs and she was free. And as soon as she was out Peter quickly scrambled through the much larger opening and was out without a word spoken.

She now saw that the Hobbits were all wearing their hoods up with Stophen holding a staff about five and a half feet tall made of a polished oak with a knarled end where he had carved several runes into it in Sindarin, which she wasn't able to read fully in this dark.

"I would suggest we make haste to anywhere but here," Stophen suggested.

"But I need to get Ruby, I'm not leaving my horse," Eolyn quietly protested.

"Oh no, he means it is not going to be safe here," Doro whispered.

"Yes I know but I can't leave her," Eolyn continued.

"No, as in, this exact spot," Stophen tried to impress upon her.

"Eolyn, very soon this little cabin is going to explode," William responded, getting a questioning look from her.

"I left your captors a little present in their chimney, it will delay their pursuit for quite some time," Stophen winked.

"A present?"

"My potions don't just provide an income my dear, they can be very useful in deterring unsavory characters," Stophen winked.

"Then I must get my horse away from here," Eolyn whispered with fearful purpose and quietly crawled to the front, with the protesting Hobbits right behind her.

"Eolyn, we can't risk it, we have to go," Peter said with an angry tone, "What's so special about a horse you'd risk your life for it."

"I raised Ruby, she's my best friend, I will not leave her to be killed or sold."

"Fine, I'll help," William bravely volunteered.

"Thank you," Eolyn said, smiling to the brave Hobbit.

The two of them quietly crept along, keeping under the dully lit windows where she was able to hear the quiet talking of two or three of the bandits within. She then poked her head around and looked out at the front of the cabin to see that it was unguarded and unwatched. There was a small grassy clearing in front of it where a small pond was situated and where she saw her horse tied to a poll pounded into the Earth, her head and eyes looking directly at her, her keen senses having sensed Eolyn's approach.

Eolyn smiled and began to creep backwards towards Ruby with her eyes on the cabin hoping that she wasn't going to be seen as she freed her horse. Thankfully all went well and Eolyn untied the knot holding Ruby in place and checked to see that her saddlebags were plundered and empty and her sword was gone. She'd be able to survive without it for now, and now made her way towards the woods with William right next to her, with a piece of rope in hand that had a small leather pouch in the center to make a fairly well-made sling which he'd loaded with a stone half as large as her palm. She could see the other Hobbits beckoning her towards a break in the forest to the left of the cabin where she quickly made to.

"Let's get out of here shall we?" Stophen suggested once they were several yards from the treeline and safe in cover.

"What about the explosive?" Doro asked, getting Stophen's attention immediately.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he said as a thunderous boom ripped through the cool night, nearly knocking the group off their feet.

An enormous ball of flame ripped through the wood and mud chimney, sending splinters in all directions and peeling the fragile roof of the cabin back like a banana. Pieces of flaming debris started soaring into the sky as a great fire roared where the cabin had once been. The screams of the surprised bandits worked their way through the night as a couple stumbled out into the night with flames on their arms, hair, or bodies. The group rolled on the ground in a panic to put out the flames as Eolyn felt a tug on her sleeve and saw Stophen quietly nodding towards the hidden trail that the Hobbits were already beginning to scurry down to get away.

"Thank you," she whispered as they walked away from the fiery clearing.

"You're very welcome. But next time, it may be beneficial to heed sound advice," Stophen said with a warm grin.

"I will," she said and continued to lead her horse down the path as Stophen brought up the rear.

As they made their escape into the forest the fire caused by Stophen's explosive was dying away and the six bandits left were looking at their wrecked hideout with looks of shock and anger. They had been drinking and sleeping and thus the last thing they had expected to awake to was their cabin being consumed by a tremendous fire ball. But then one of them realized that they weren't the only ones in that cabin.

"The Princess!" their leader suddenly shouted, and he and several of his companions charged into the back to see what had happened to her, or if she was even still there.

What they found was a true surprise. There wasn't the slightest sign that she had been there, but there was a clue as to how she got out.

"She dug out, look," one of the bandits pointed, seeing the hole in the dirt floor from the flames next to their heads that were smoldering the walls around them.

"That insolent little bitch! She's going to pay for this," their leader snapped, spinning around to exit the building and get searching. But instead he saw a sight he had dreaded to see at this exact moment.

A solid wall of horses of and hooded and masked riders numbering well over twenty was standing before the building with his men standing there looking at them with fear and worry in their eyes. Each of them was clothed in black, with a red sash tied about their waists with a metal circle with the likeness of a curled dragon upon it. At their waists was a curved dagger with a hilt embedded with a red jewel. On their backs were two curved short swords with black hilts. Their faces were masked over with only their eyes showing in the darkness. The red trim upon their hoods and shirts was unmistakable, these were the Reapers, the personal daggers of Queen Elda.

"Where is the girl?" their leader asked, riding forward. The bandits said nothing, struck with fear of what these deadly assassins were going to do when they learned that their prize had gone, "Speak!"

"She, she escaped my lord. But don't worry, we won't make that mistake again."

The leader of the Reapers was totally silent, until he dismounted and walked forward to the leader of the bandits.

"I know," he calmly said. Then in a move so swift one would have to see it again to be sure, he swiped his arm up to his back and drew one of his swords and slashed evenly across the bandit's neck. As the body fell the dismembered head fell with it, until it rolled forward to the Reaper Captain's feet. Without even looking at his gruesome handiwork he turned away as his men pulled out small crossbows from their saddles and fired with quiet clicks that were accompanied by loud screams of pain as the small steel darts cut into the few bandits who learned that night that one does not ever fail the Reapers.

"Spread out, time is running short. The Queen expects us to meet her with the girl, find her and kill any who are with her."

The now joyful Princess of Rohan did not know that this new and deadly threat now sought her out as she walked through the thinning brush to where she discovered the wagon that the Hobbits and Stophen had hidden near the road.

"It would be wise of us to make some distance now," Stophen said as he walked towards he steps up into his wagon, "I would suggest you stay with us for the time being Eolyn. There is strength in numbers out here."

"I'd be a fool to argue with you Stophen," Eolyn said as she stopped Ruby next to the wagon.

"Most people are who do argue with him," William piped up as he walked over to the wagon along with his kinsmen.

"Aye, he's gotten around these parts and knows his stuff," Doro added.

"And so do we," Peter piped up, "Stick with us and we'll protect you," he bragged as he leaned against the wagon on one hand. But as he said that an arrow slammed into the loose part of his sleeve, pinning the arm there and surprising everyone as its steel head audibly hit the wagon. Another arrow hit Kapper's cloak where he stood near the wagon wheel almost at the same time. Then another arrow hit Stophen's shirt as he was reaching down to pull up William onto the wagon. Eolyn spun around to see that there was already an arrow pointing at Stophen's nose with a bow and an archer poised behind it. The bow seemed to have a shine to it on several bands of silver wrapped around the bow. The wood was colored darkly in the moon light and its user's face was totally masked by the shadow of his hood. The figure wore a well-made cloak with several metal clasps on it. The clothing appeared to be colored a grass green with a similarly colored shirt and sleeves with black leather wrist guards protecting the two pulling fingers and the inside of the wrist of the archer. On his back was a large totally filled quiver of arrows with an ivory sword handle poking out from behind his head.

"Do not move," a smooth but deadly serious voice commanded.

"It doesn't look like I have much of a choice now do I?" Peter piped up angrily as he tried to pull the arrow out his sleeve.

"Get away from her you!" Doro and William cried out as they drew a pair of small knives from their belts but were stopped short as another figure stepped out from behind the wagon aiming an arrow at Doro who was about as surprised as Eolyn was. He too bore the same well-made green cloak and his own wrist protection. But from here Eolyn could see that he bore a curve sword at his left side in a decorated scabbard.

"What is the meaning of this?!" she hissed at the figure who didn't even budge as she faced him, and felt the empty space where she had once had her sword.

"You're Elves," Stophen acknowledged curiously.

The hooded figure in front of Eolyn and the one in front of Doro and William turned to look at Stophen who yanked the arrow from the wooden stair of his wagon.

"How did you guess that?" the other Elf asked, not dropping his guard.

"Well," Stophen started with his usual friendly demeanor, "Your stealth was my first clue, then I see you bear the Leaves of Mirkwood, only Elves bear those. Next, is your arrow. This arrowhead, very leaf shaped, with a shaft of yew and feathers of a swan. Very well crafted, and well-aimed," Stophen said as he looked at the hole in his shirt, "Thank you for not pinning my hand to the wagon."

"Why did you attack us?" Eolyn demanded again, "I am Princess Eolyn, daughter of Eomer, King of Rohan so you'd best answer me Master Elf."

"We have been searching for you Princess," the first Elf said calmly, dropping his guard and lowered his bow and placed the arrow back within his quiver, "I am Holdiir, and this is my brother Holdiim."

He drew back his hood, revealing a delicate but handsome face that could only belong to an Elf. His hair seemed to shine white in the light of the moon and his eyes looked as if they could pierce the hardiest of men's souls. Then Holdiim took off his hood after doing likewise with his bow and arrow. But what surprised all of them was that his face was exactly like Holdiir's. They were twins.

"We have come to return you to Edoras. These men who seek you are a dangerous group from the Far East. We have been tracking them for three days and have only now realized their plans."

"Easterlings?" Eolyn asked, "Why would they want me?"

"Far East, beyond the Easterling tribes?" Stophen asked.

"We don't know. But we must get you to safety before they find your trail."

"What is this all about?" Peter asked.

"An army has crossed the Anduin. War is upon Middle Earth once more, and we are about to be caught in the middle of it."

"A war?!" Doro asked out loud, "I wanna try."

"Wars are nothing to look forward to master Hobbit," Holdiir responded wisely.

"Oh how bad can it be?" Peter responded with his arms crossed with the arrow that had pinned him to the wagon in hand.

"It can be worse than anything you can imagine," Holdiim replied, stepping towards the Hobbit, "First is the fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of death, and not being able to do anything you can to stop it. Then is the battle itself, your comrades and enemies all around you, their blood spilling onto the ground and flowing like a river. The sight of the dead staring at you from the other side, bidding you to join their peaceful rest. Then is the memory, the memory of those you've killed and those you've lost, forever haunting you until your dying breath," as he said that he looked at Eolyn with a look of the utmost seriousness, "We have seen war. We know its fire, it is not to be looked forward to. Especially when it is two Kingdoms of Men that are fighting one another."

All of a sudden the group turned to hear a shrill bellowing horn off in the near distance. It was unlike any that they'd heard before.

"It's them, quickly we must go West," Holdiir said, grabbing Eolyn by her arm as Holdiim walked to join them.

"Wait, I'm not going anywhere without my friends," Eolyn demanded.

"If they find you with them they will be killed," Holdiim responded.

"Now hold on a minute there Master Elf," Stophen responded, "How many times have you gone beyond your forest of Mirkwood? What do you know of the land between here and Rohan?"

"And I suppose you know more than I sir?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Stophen responded.

"Besides, these invaders sound like they'll be a handful, you can use fine Hobbits and our skills to help get the young Princess home," Kapper said.

"What skills would a Hobbit have that we might use to do battle with mounted soldiers and crossbowmen?" Holdiir asked.

"We're all fine slingers, and I can cook," Doro said.

"And I can fight just as well as you," Peter said standing right up to the two Elves.

"You're not going anywhere without us Master Elves, best accept it."

The two Elves looked at one another and without a word being spoken they seemed to come to the same conclusion that they'd best accept it. So with a nod Holdiir and Holdiim stowed their bows.

"Very well, this is a dangerous task you have taken so be prepared for the worst Master Stophen."

"Oh don't worry about us, we Hobbits have a habit of surprising," Kapper smiled as he jumped up into the back of the wagon.

"Eolyn," Stophen called out, "I think it would be best if I look after your injury. It looks like your captors didn't do you any favors. The last thing we need is for you to pass out on the road."

"I'm alright Stophen," she replied as she prepared to mount onto Ruby but felt a slightly light headed as she was about to get up.

"Eolyn remember what happened last time you said you were alright? You got kidnapped," William put in smartly.

"It'll be alright Eolyn, just an hour or two of staying off the saddle and keeping a bandage on your brow should be enough to suffice. Besides, your temple is covered in blood. Most unbecoming of a princess."

Eolyn furrowed her brow in confusion and felt her forehead to feel the rough dryness of the blood that had smeared over because of her captors' blindfold. She sighed and handed the reins to Holdiim reluctantly and walked over to the back of the wagon and climbed up and was practically pulled down to sit against the side on the folded up tents. Stophen handed control of the large wagon over to William who urged the four oxen forward and began seeing to Eolyn's cut once more after cleaning and most painful of all, sanitizing the wound. As he worked the wagon trundled along with the Elf twins in front of and behind the wagon making sure that there was nothing and no one that was going to surprise them. Eolyn should have felt some kind of relief from being freed of a very dangerous situation but instead she felt disappointment. The adventure she had wanted to have was now at an end, now it was simply a quest to return home without becoming a pawn in a larger game that she feared she was to be left out of. But, at least she was going to have a while to get home and on the way anything could happen.

Former Bandit Hideout (Two Hours Later)

In the predawn light the smoke of the fire that had burnt out recently guided the six riders right towards a scene that they hadn't been wanting to encounter. Strewn across the clearing were the bodies of six men, each having been slain some time ago.

"Check for survivors," Eldarion said as they scanned the area.

"I don't think anyone here is going to be able to share the events of what happened Eldarion," Furdi said as the group dismounted and spread out through the clearing.

"These aren't arrows," Eoden whispered as he yanked one of the all steel bolts from one of the bodies.

"No, their bolts from a crossbow," Gondo explained as he took another from the same body, "All steel, each of them is identical. These came from the same foundry."

"Then it couldn't have been the Rangers of Rauros who did this. They don't use crossbows," Borothir said as he turned one of the bodies over to examine it, holding his longbow and knocked arrow in his hands.

"A feud between rival gangs?" Eldarion asked as he used his foot to turn over the dismembered head of one of the men on the ground and had to stifle his disgust at the sight and smell of it all.

"Not likely, these bodies would have been looted and the bolts retrieved," Aiden said calmly.

"Well if it wasn't the Rangers and it wasn't bandits whose work is this?" Eoden asked as he began walking towards the burnt over cabin.

"You have me lad," Furdi said as he entered the cabin and began shoving bits and pieces around with his spear to look for anything of value or intelligence.

"They're definitely bandits," Borothir said as he too entered the cabin, "Just look at all this stuff."

He was right, there was a great deal of coin, goods, and other items scattered around the room with a good deal of soot on top of it which Furdi just rubbed off as he deposited any coins he found into a small sack on his belt.

"Well, one thing's for sure, they have no further need of these coins," Furdi said as he lifted an overturned table to look for more items, "Oh nice sword," he said as he bent down and withdrew a practically untouched steel short sword of the Rohirric style.

"Give me that!" Eoden snapped upon seeing the familiar blade. He snatched it by the hilt from the Dwarf's hands without even letting him acknowledge it.

"Well you could have asked lad," Furdi grumpily responded.

"Borothir, Eldarion," he whispered, examining the blade quietly, "This is Eolyn's sword."

"What?!" Borothir said walking up to him from where he'd been poking at a singed body within the room.

"Oh no," Eldarion whispered as he leaned heavily against the shattered door frame.

"It can't be, it just can't be," Eoden whispered as he started tearing apart the room, looking for any sign of Eolyn herself, "Eolyn!"

His cries were loud and pained from the fear that they may have been too late. He began tearing at pieces of the room, hoping against hope that he would find his sister alive or that she was nearby. He finally tried pulling at a heavy beam futilely as his anguished grunts and yells settled into cries of pain and loss. The three Dwarves stopped their scavenging and searching and gave Eoden a wide berth, lest they earn the saddened wrath of the young prince. They stood outside, weapons on the ground and held them as they hung their heads down in respect.

Borothir was standing there, absolutely stunned and unable to comprehend the entirety of this new and terrible revelation. All he could do was stand there, trying to wrap his head around the idea that she was gone, that they had failed. Eldarion too felt a deep sense of grief and failure well up into his heart as Eoden and Borothir began to visibly grieve for their lost family. The Dwarves quietly and respectfully kept their distance, giving the Princes time to themselves. Eldarion hadn't known Eolyn very well, but this was to be his wife, and that alone was reason to feel great sadness. In his time with her he'd gotten to know that she was spunky, quick witted, and fiercely independent, very much like him. His sisters had known her and were deeply fond of the young Princess of Rohan and spoke very often of planned trips to visit Edoras and go on adventures with Eolyn, riding off to the horizon with not a care in the world. But now, she was gone.

Eldarion walked over to his friend and wrapped his arm around his shoulder and pulled him close to try and offer some sort of comfort to the grieving man. Eoden had by now settled into a fit of tears at the belief he'd failed, and that Eolyn was dead. Meanwhile Borothir knew that they would need to find her and stepped into another room where he saw that the walls were still mostly intact with smoke leaking from the top of the burnt-out building. He scanned the floor, finding no sign of a body but as he turned to leave he tangled his feet amongst a length of rope and stumbled and fell back against the wall and sank against it right into a hole underneath it. He sat there and pulled the length of rope up off the ground to examine it. After a second or two he rolled up off the ground to look at the hole he'd fallen into and then jumped to his feet.

"Eldarion! Eoden!" he yelled, "Come quickly!"

The two Princes looked over their shoulders at Eoden and then saw the cut ropes in his hands and rushed over.

"This rope, it's been cut," Eldarion whispered.

"That's not all," Borothir smiled, "Look."

He pointed at the hole, clearing away a few pieces of debris to reveal it was no accident or coincidence it was there. With the clues coming together in his mind Eoden rushed over to where the wall was burnt down enough to see that there was a plethora of tracks marked in the high grasses just outside the walls where the hole could clearly be seen. Along with fairly fresh piles of dirt on top of the grasses.

"What? What is it?" Gondo asked, running into the cabin.

"Eolyn was here," Borothir said, "She was bound in this room, but her bonds were cut and she dug her way out and escaped."

"She's alive, she's alive," Eoden whispered to himself as he smiled at the thought, freed of the grief of losing a sister and replacing it with the hope that she was still out there somewhere.

"Borothir, you and Furdi follow the tracks, see where they lead," Eldarion commanded, "We'll follow with the horses."

"Right," Borothir responded, jumping over the hole in the wall to begin following the tail of trampled grass and instantly noticed something as he paused to examine a particularly clear print. As he did so Furdi came up behind him and saw him with his face etched into one of complete concentration.

"What're ye looking at? It's just tracks."

"I've never seen tracks like these, and it isn't just one set from Eolyn. There are several of these…barefooted tracks, and one other track that is not Eolyn's," he said as he examined the grass as it trailed into the forest.

"Look, horse prints," Furdi pointed, "I'd say that these new fellows are not hostile to Eolyn as they allowed her to reclaim her horse."

"You're right, there's no struggle, but it is clear they were trying to make haste. Look here," he kneeled down again, "The tracks have a great deal of toe kick."

He pointed down at where one of what were most likely Eolyn's tracks with a very definite thin print set into the dirt but in front of it one could clearly see the lighter dirt kicked forward as the toe was moving along at a higher speed. Borothir could not have asked for a better time of day to track, in the rising and setting sun it the rays shined down at a steep angle, casting long shadows, revealing traces of imprints within the ground that could not be so easily seen in the high noon. It was with this manner that he continued forward with Furdi at his side, kneeling down to examine the strange barefooted tracks within the earth.

"I still don't understand, who would trek through such terrain barefooted?" he whispered frustrated.

"There are wild men that I know of in these woods, and those I do know of would not be so friendly to strangers," Furdi grumbled in agreement.

"Oh no," Borothir whispered as he got to a clearing and saw that they had reached the road.

It was covered in hoof prints from a great many horses which seemed to ride off down the path. But what he now realized and lamented was what he saw beneath him. There was a trace of Eolyn and her company's passage clearly set within a clearing off the road a few yards but it was what accompanied the traces that had him worried.

"She's being tracked," he said as he traced a finger delicately along one footprint in particular.

"Oh you don't say, I thought the proper term was following."

"No, not by us," Borothir said grimly, "This track has been examined before, look at the print there, it only of the front half of a boot and is deeply set. The clear sign of someone hunched over on the front of their feet as they are tracking. And see here," he pointed, tracing along the outside of Eolyn's print to show that his finger made an identical mark to the one just outside the heel, "And it's fresh. The morning dew on the ground has been broken."

He was right, the entire area from the hoof prints to the small trace he'd pointed at was discolored, showing darker in the early morning sun with the undisturbed parts a glistening lighter color because of the fine dew that coats the ground every morning.

"Borothir," the voice of Eoden called out as he led his and Borothir's horses into the clearing with a smile on his face as he now saw that they were on the road and had a clear direction, "Which way?"

Behind him were Eldarion, Gondo, and Aiden who was leading Furdi's horse right behind them.

"Something's wrong," Aiden instantly noticed after taking the grim faces of Borothir and Furdi.

"What?" Eoden asked confused.

"Eolyn's being tracked, by whom I do not know," Borothir replied.

"How can you tell?" Gondo asked.

"These signs are the exact ones I make as I examine a track. And it's fresh, not even an hour old."

"How many?" Eldarion asked.

"Several, maybe more than a dozen riders. I can't give you exact figures Eldarion, but it doesn't take a master tracker to tell you that their direction of travel."

"Then that is where we must go," Eldarion said affirmatively, "Let's hunt the hunters."

"Yes!" Furdi said with a wild grin, running to mount onto his horse, "The hunt is on!"

As Borothir was about to jump onto his horse he noticed something else, deep trails imprinted into the earth where the shadows cast a long shade into it, "A wagon…Eldarion, Eoden, we must ride hard, Eolyn is not alone and they are not travelling very quickly at all. These riders will catch them soon."

"Then let's catch them."

 **Next Chapter Preview: On the hunt, and the Kings of the West hear of the new danger.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Gondor, Minas Tirith

Aragorn was having a long day, first, he had to deal with an elongated council session with the nobles on matters that he was all too tired of dealing with, trade, taxation, and construction projects. It was his last one this season thankfully, as he would soon be heading north to his summer capital in Arnor, Anumminas. He had planned to leave soon, but the situation involving Princess Eolyn which his son had volunteered to assist with alongside of Borothir and Prince Eoden had put his trip north on hold. He was worried of course, as any father would be.

He knew that Eldarion had been trained and taught in the ways of combat, tracking, and survival, receiving a tutor in the form of Gondor's most able swordsman and ranger, him. Eldarion had had several tutors in his life, several for classes so he could be able with mathematics, poetry, history, writing, and other academic matters. But lately, Eldarion had become the student of Aragorn's most able general, Sirion, the overall commander of the Reunited Kingdom's combined army of over one hundred fifty thousand. He was in the process of being taught matters of battlefield strategy and tactics within the headquarters of General Sirion on the sixth level of Minas Tirith. Sirion had told Aragorn that Eldarion seemed to possess a gift for tactics and highly suggested that they allow him command of a regiment of the army's infantry when the king had campaigned against the Easterlings three years ago. But Aragorn hadn't agreed, and instead entrusted Eldarion with the defense of the home front, which was under no threat whatsoever and greatly annoyed the young prince who was only fifteen at the time. But the campaign had ended earlier than anticipated as the Easterlings retreated beyond reach before Aragorn had arrived with the bulk of Gondor's army along with the Rohirrim commanded by Eomer. This told Aragorn that the Easterlings would be back as the clear majority of their strength had remained untouched and was still out there waiting for the next time to attack. Aragorn had decided that when that time came his son would join him.

But that time was not yet arrived, as Eldarion had a new quest to fulfill. Aragorn had little doubt that his son would pull through and find Eolyn before anything happened or before she got too far. In his experience as a Dunedain Ranger he knew that by now, if they'd been smart, they would have gone around the swamps around where the Entwash met the Anduin and be near to Amon Hen where the newly formed Rangers of Rauros were stationed in the newly reestablished watch tower in the hills. This was where, with those Rangers' assistance, Eldarion, Eoden, and Borothir would be able to find her and be on their way home.

Then with Eolyn and Eldarion together in front of him he might be able to have that talk he had been meaning to have with them about the matter of their betrothal. He was still on the fence about letting them call it all off, but both he and Eomer were beginning to lean that direction. However, they couldn't tell them if they weren't here. So that left Aragorn to sit in council with a bunch of old and stuck up nobles who knew far more about the subject at hand than he did, only speaking to confirm a decision, or to stop a rising argument of which there were many with men of high standing and high egos. However, today they were less willing to be told to knock it off, since many of them had hoped for their own daughters or granddaughters to be chosen for Eldarion's bride and future queen. So a great opportunity for influence and power and access to the ear of the king had been, in the nobles' eyes, robbed from them and their next queen was made an outsider.

As he sat there, mind wandering off, he looked out the window hoping for the meeting to come to an end the large wooden door opened with unannounced speed and force. Aragorn looked to see the unmistakable armored figure of General Sirion himself. His black cape practically floated off the ground with the speed of his pace as he walked right at the king, his face grim. Aragorn raised a hand that silenced the noble who had been speaking at the moment about a tax to be proposed in Pelargir for the now flood of imports coming from the north and south.

General Sirion was a middle-aged man who still looked as though he were still in his prime with an average but strong build. His light brown hair was cut short, a rarity among men of Gondor, with a thin goatee on his chin. As an experienced general, his words carried across with such knowledge and wisdom that Aragorn would never ignore it under the worst of circumstances. He wore the intimidating armor of a General whenever he was on duty, his helmet tucked under his arm and black cape draped over his shoulders and sword at his side, ready to draw it upon his king's word. He'd made his name initially as commander of Gondor's Southern Army, winning great victories against greater odds against the Haradrim who attempted to take Pelargir not a year after Aragorn had been crowned King of the Reunited Kingdom. For thirty years he'd been his right-hand man in wars ever since and had become the Prince's teacher in the ways of a General **.**

"Your majesty, my lords," he said bowing a fraction as he came to the ring of chairs.

"Your face is grim General Sirion, what news?" Aragorn said, standing up.

"We have just received word from Captain Firfion at Amon Hen. An army has crossed the Anduin River and is marching west against Rohan," he responded without pause.

"When? How could this happen?" one of the older nobles demanded.

"The messenger pigeon arrived five minutes ago and died of exhaustion upon arriving in my Headquarters."

"Less than eight hours ago," Aragorn mumbled, "How many?"

"The message did not say precisely, but Captain Firfion estimates that there are seventy thousand at least with mounted cavalry, chariots, and portable siege machines. But that is not all my liege," the nobles began murmuring and interrupting him until he raised his voice to announce he was not finished. he paused as Aragorn gave his nod to continue, "This Army comes from the East yes, but they are not of the Easterling Tribes. He says that they march under a black banner with a red dragon upon it and are led by a Queen."

"Seventy thousand, marching against Rohan. Has Captain Firfion alerted Rohan?" Aragorn demanded.

"Yes sire, a pigeon was dispatched at the same time as the one that arrived here in Minas Tirith."

"My lords, this requires my attention, I must give my leave," Aragorn said, stepping down from the raised seat in the council chambers and walked out as General Sirion stepped to the right and followed him out. As they walked out Aragorn turned to one of the guards, "Where is Eomer King and the Steward?"

"They are at the Prince of Dol Amroth's town house for noon meal."

"Send for them quickly, do it yourself," Aragorn ordered, "And bring Prince Elphir with you as well."

"Yes sire," he responded, and turned to run off to do as he was told.

"Sire, there is something else," Sirion said quietly as they reached the office of the king.

Aragorn saw the newly grim face of his usually calm and stoic general and knew that what he had to say was probably not something that should be heard by other ears. He opened the door and walked in with Sirion behind him.

"What is it?"

"Sire as you know the Seat of Seeing is also known as the Seat of Hearing. This fact is how we know they plan to march on Rohan, it is also how Captain Firfion heard a part of their plan that is especially troubling," he said, holding out the transcribed paper that was a copy of the message sent by Firfion at Amon Hen.

Aragorn took the paper and then looked down at it and began reading.

 _To General Sirion in Minas Tirith,_

 _The Outpost at Amon Hen has detected a large army crossing the Anduin River on this night of March 12. Their strength is in excess of seventy thousand, approaching eighty thousand. They are led by a Queen with many chariots, siege machines, and wagons in its midst. The Seat of Seeing has allowed me to hear their plan to march against Rohan and to conquer the Rohirrim and then to march against our Kingdom._

 _There is however more distressing news, the seat has allowed me to hear their plans, already in motion, to kidnap Princess Eolyn of Rohan to provoke Eomer King into an early battle that would play to the strengths of the enemy. I have begun a search for the Princess as well as the Prince Eldarion, Prince Eoden, and the Steward's son Borothir. I have alerted Edoras of all of this and expect word to reach them within a day of your reading this._

 _I intend to shadow the enemy while searching for the Princess and the Princes' party to prevent them from falling into the hands of the enemy before you arrive with the army._

 _Captain Firfion, Captain of the Rangers of Rauros_

There was also an image of a sketched in rendering of the banners that their enemies marched under along with some of the letters he was seeing. It was a valuable piece of information, one that he'd put in so that the great libraries could be scoured for any long-forgotten scrolls or books with matches from the long-forgotten past.

"I have already sent word to begin scouring the archives and libraries for any matches," Firfion informed him.

"How could they have known of Princess Eolyn's disappearance?"

"I do not know sire. The only item I can think of is that they have a spy in the city."

"Yes but only a handful of people know of Eolyn's ride."

"That narrows it down then sire, we cannot march against this invader and risk word leaking out of our northeastern cities and territories being vulnerable."

"We must deal with it then," Aragorn answered.

"I am not a spy your highness, nor do I know how to deal with a matter such as this," Sirion answered truthfully.

"The Thieves Guild, nothing happens that they don't know about. If there is any way that they know of this then we can persuade them to share it."

"Who would you assign for such a task your highness?"

"I have an idea, Captain Deothil, he should suffice."

"Captain of the Fountain Guards?" Sirion asked with a hint of curiosity, "I didn't know you hated the Thieves Guild?"

"I do not, but with a matter such as this we need our best and our most persuasive."

"Captain Deothil will do the job, I doubt that the Thieves Guild has forgotten of the last time you turned he and his Company loose upon those Easterling assassins they unwittingly harbored three years ago," Sirion chuckled.

"Very well," Aragorn said, turning to the next matter of business, "Sirion how quickly can you assemble the Army?" Aragorn asked as they walked to a table against the wall as Sirion asked for a map to be pulled by Aragorn's old scribe.

"That depends on how quickly you plan to march. Within a day's march are the garrisons of Minas Tirith itself and Osgliath which gives us fifteen thousand. In three days' time we could count on thirteen thousand men from the east river towns, Pelargir, and Ithilien. In a week we could have another twenty-five thousand from central Gondor and in two weeks we could have twenty thousand from Dol Amroth and our western towns and fiefdoms. All told, eighty-five thousand in two to three weeks."

"How you have memorized this I will never know Sirion," Aragorn chuckled as the scribe brought out a large map of Rohan and Gondor and laid it on the table, "What of Arnor?"

"Arnor all-told can bring sixty thousand men to bear against this threat, but it will take several weeks before they are even gathered and another two weeks for an army of that size to march south."

"Too much time, too much," Aragorn mumbled looking at the map, "Rohan cannot hold an army of such great numbers alone as gallant and skilled as they are. And we will not be of help if we bring less than thirty thousand to the fight."

"We have fought greater odds than this," Sirion proudly responded.

"Those were Orcs, Southrons, and Easterlings my friend. These men, this queen of theirs…I don't know why but I cannot help but feel they are different and will not fold like our enemies of the past. And I feel that there are more than the seventy thousand we know of beyond the Anduin. We need to meet them with our full might. But to do that we need time to gather our strength."

"In that case sire I can send out riders ordering the army to mobilize and meet us along the West road to Dunharrow and gather to your banner as we march to join the Rohirrim. That way we can keep the White Mountains between them and us as we march within our territory and within easy grasp of supplies and provisions. Then we can move through the Gap of Rohan and join with our forces from Arnor here at the Fords of Isen," Sirion said, pointing out the route that was to be followed.

"Or we can take a faster route, we can take the road under the mountain," Aragorn said, pointing at the square block on the map with the words "Erech" printed next to it.

"The Paths of the Dead?" Sirion asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I know it's not the most conventional of routes but if three could pass through then why not thirty? If thirty can make it why not three hundred, and then why not three thousand?"

"It is risky, it will be trouble getting large numbers of horses through those caverns along with armored troops," Sirion mumbled, "And we will have to bring what provisions and supplies we bring on the backs of our troops and horses, and whatever pack animals we can muster. We can maybe set up a caravan through the mountain that can…maybe bring enough supplies until Arnor's forces descend from the Northeast. But I doubt we could go very far from that Mountain if that were the case."

"Time is of the essence. The Dwimorberg Mountain and the Dimholt are no longer haunted by the spirits of the dead. They are gone forever to rest in peace, their realm is empty and disserted," Aragorn responded.

"If that is your wish, I will be the first to follow you."

Aragorn nodded in acknowledgement of the loyalty of his general and turned to look at the map once more and as he did there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," he said, turning to see the door open with the guard that he'd sent off to get Faramir, Eomer, and the Prince of Dol Amroth, Elphir, stepping into the room and bowing. Behind him came Eomer, Faramir, and Elphir all dressed in comfortable average attire. The two Gondorians bowed to Aragorn as they entered and Eomer simply nodded, knowing he and Aragorn need not bow to each other as they were close friends. But Aragorn still couldn't get Faramir to stop doing it after nearly twenty years.

"The Steward of Gondor, Prince of Dol Amroth, and King of Rohan your highness," he said proudly.

"Thank you, I'm afraid I must ask one more favor my good man. Send for Captain Deothil, it is urgent."

"Yes sire," the man said, and turned to leave.

"I take it there is news?" Eomer asked eagerly and with a friendly tone, relaxing Aragorn a bit.

"We just received word, Rohan has been invaded," Aragorn said, getting a change of atmosphere from the men instantly.

"Are you certain?" Prince Elphir responded.

Aragorn nodded and just handed the message containing all the pertinent information over to Eomer, who took it and as soon as he began reading his expression changed. He'd had a somewhat relaxed smile and his posture had been at ease and confident. But as he read the words on that piece of parchment his smile solidified into a thin line as he is eyes focused and his posture seemed to tense at the words alerting him that his country was invaded and his family now a target. He handed the paper to Faramir and looked at Aragorn.

"These invaders will pay for turning their barbarous eyes to my family and my country. Has there been any word? Any at all of the whereabouts of Eolyn or our sons?" Eomer demanded sternly.

"None," Aragorn said, "By now they would be at Amon Hen, well within the range of the Seat of Seeing. The Rangers of Rauros would be able to find them."

"And if the Rangers do not find them?" Eomer asked, his voice beginning to show the complete anger and overwhelming hopelessness he felt at being so far away unable to do anything to effect the situation.

"Our sons are well trained, and Eolyn is smart. They can easily evade capture or harm and will doubtless be returning to safety to inform us they're alright," Faramir quickly put in trying to calm Eomer down.

"The nearest villages would already be evacuating and it would take several days before they reached safety," Eomer replied, shaking his head.

"We must trust our sons' judgment and skills in this hour. In the meantime we are at war," Aragorn said, "And we must protect our countries."

Eomer nodded, gathering himself as Aragorn nodded back, "Very well."

"Eomer, how long would the Rohirrim take to fully muster?"

"Several days, perhaps a week at most. By then we'd have twelve thousand mounted riders ready to ride out. But, against eighty thousand, we will need your help Aragorn. We need your armies."

"We can have eighty thousand men at Dunharrow within two weeks and another sixty thousand from Arnor at the Fords of Isen in three," came the response that caught everyone by surprise.

"Two weeks?" Prince Elphir said, "Your majesty, it will take a week just for my knights and I alone to ride to Minas Tirith but with full infantry regiments it would take two weeks. Then it would be as much as a week and a half before the entire army could march north to join with Rohan."

"The army isn't assembling at Minas Tirith," Aragorn responded, "I want you to assemble your knights and infantry here," Aragorn said, pointing at the map while everyone gathered around, "At the Stone of Erech, where we will march in force through the Path of the Dead and into Dunharrow within three days."

"The Path of the Dead? Your highness an army of that size cannot possibly-," Elphir stuttered.

"It can be done," Aragorn said, "All it takes it is a little push."

Elphir knew Aragorn long enough to know that this was not an argument he'd win, so he bowed and nodded, "In that case my liege, I request your leave so I may ride home and prepare my troops to march."

"Very well, we'll see you at the Stone of Erech," Aragorn said, reaching out and clasping the Captain of the Swan Knights with a hardy arm clasp and nodded as he turned and left.

"Now, General Sirion, how long would it take the enemy to reach here, Helm's Deep?"

"The total distance to cover for them is over two hundred miles to Edoras, and another fifty to Helm's Deep or Dunharrow. However, ten miles of those miles are here, near the Anduin River where the terrain is wooded, and above all, mountainous, and patrolled by the Rangers of Rauros. Here it will be difficult to do any more than four miles a day with an army of eighty thousand men with chariots, cavalry, and a large wagon train supporting it. But with the onset of the spring rains and the presence of a very capable company of Rangers we can cut their pace down by half, slowing them down to one to two miles a day. But once into the Wold of Rohan, their pace will quicken to as many as eighteen miles in a day."

"They'll have to cross the Entwash as well, and then the Snowbourne. During late March they will be swollen and their banks will be breached with the rains and melting snow flowing from the mountains. The roads will also be muddied and will make progress difficult for their baggage train and chariots as well as their infantry," Eomer pointed out.

"And they don't know the territory, this is the first time any invader from the East has come this far West into Rohan, and from what we know these men are not Easterlings so we have another advantage," Faramir said.

"But they will likely have maps, they've obviously infiltrated the land enough to know that Princess Eolyn is out there by herself," Aragorn responded as he shook his head.

"A map doesn't do you as much good as a man who has lived and ridden with the Riddermark from the day they could stand. My men know their country like the back of their hands."

"True, so with this hard trek through the woods here near the Anduin, and then a march across the Wold and the Riddermark counting the crossings they'll have to make we can count on two weeks easily, possibly three," Aragorn said.

"That might be time enough for our armies from Arnor to descend on their north flank," Faramir pointed out.

"Don't count on it my lord. The spring rains do not favor any of us, and the paved roads in Arnor are not yet complete in the one place that they are needed most," General Sirion responded, "I fear Arnor's reinforcements will take too long to arrive."

"Fortunate then that the roads to Erech are paved then," Faramir said.

"Yes our forces should be able to make fine time if a kick in the arse is applied in the right places," Sirion smiled.

"I trust we will not need to use such measures General?"

"The majority of the army is young and untried sire. For most of them this will be their first true campaign."

"Indeed," Aragorn nodded, remembering the practical waste of time and treasure that was his campaign against the Easterlings not even three years ago.

"My lord," Faramir said, "I would like to accompany the Army, in command of my Rangers."

"No, I need you here as Steward to watch over the city."

"The city is well in hand, the Council would be too busy arguing to do any harm and Eowyn would be able to take my place for a month. And it is also my son out there Aragorn, my duty as a father rises above all others. Besides, I've needed to stretch my legs."

Aragorn smiled at the staunch resolution that his Steward possessed and nodded, "Very well, you'll make sure the troops from Ithilien and Pelargir march with speed to join us at Erech. Eomer, I trust you will not need a company to help you arrive at Dunharrow."

"No, I'll be able to handle myself with my guards and meet with our Southern Eoreds and ride on to Dunharrow."

"Are you certain? I cannot afford to lose you my friend."

"Your worry should be placed on the enemy if they have the misfortune to face me," Eomer declared, his newfound hatred for these invaders bleeding out once again but he softened as he looked at Aragorn, "But, I would like to ask a favor of you."

"Anything my friend."

"My wife, the Queen, I would like to ask that she stay here in Minas Tirith. I can't place her in danger on the road to Dunharrow."

"Of course, although I may need you to make sure she stays, Lothiriel is not easily convinced," Aragorn chuckled.

"She'll stay. I'll make certain of it," Eomer nodded.

"Okay, we have our task set before us," Aragorn stated, "General Sirion, assemble the army."

"Yes sire," the General said, turning to accomplish his task.

"I must ready my guard to ride for Rohan," Eomer said, shaking Aragorn's hand as he left, "We'll look for your arrival at Dunharrow."

"We'll be there," Aragorn nodded as he left and turned to his Steward, Faramir, who stood there next to him, "I take it you will ride for Ithilien to muster your troops?"

"With your permission of course," Faramir responded, bowing after Aragorn nodded to let him go.

Aragorn knew that he was going to have to face his wife and queen about this, along with his daughters, Averwen of sixteen, Lethilia of fourteen, and Gallian of eight. He knew that today Arwen and their daughters would be having tea with the wives and daughters of the nobles as they did every Wednesday of the week. There they discussed such things as fashions, what young men were courting their daughters, new fashions, and other items that Aragorn knew little about. But he did know Averwen, his eldest daughter, was coming of marrying age, and he himself would have to get personally involved because of the political importance of her future husband and father of more of his Telcontar Line.

So, making his way to the balcony where he knew he'd find Arwen and his still homebound children he heard the sounding of the bell and subsequent Horn of Gondor that called for the garrison of Minas Tirith to mobilize and report to the armories immediately. The servants, guards, and maids walking about the halls all recognized this sound, with several saying a silent prayer for a loved one whom they knew was at that moment answering this call to arms. As Aragorn made it to Arwen's social room he opened the door and saw a dozen or more ladies curtsy to him as the whirled around to see the door open with their king standing there before them. Gallian saw her father and ran up to him, jumping up into his arms as he lifted her up and smiled holding her easily in one arm. Arwen and his older two daughters walked forward, sensing what was happening.

"Hello papa," Gallian greeted, her smile beaming and showing off a gap in her teeth where she'd lost two of her baby teeth in the past week.

"Hello Gallian," he said back warmly.

"Are you going to stay for our tea party?" the little girl asked blissfully, unaware of the army gathering at her father's order.

"I'm afraid not," he said, getting an unhappy pout from his youngest child.

"Aragorn? What is it?" Arwen asked.

"Rohan has been invaded, the army is being assembled to march to Dunharrow to assist Eomer King."

"What about Eldarion father? Where is he?" Averwen asked, her mind of age enough to know that her father was going to war and her brother was possibly near the realm of battle.

"I don't know, I believe he and Borothir and Eoden are somewhere near Amon Hen, near the Rangers of Rauros's outpost."

"Are you going to fight papa?" Lethilia asked, reaching out and grasping her father's hand with great big eyes.

"Yes," he responded softly to his daughter.

"When will you be back?" Lethilia asked again, "Rohan is not far, and everyone says that you are unbeatable. So soon?"

"I hope so," he responded, brushing his hand across the girl's cheek, "Queen Lothiriel will be staying here in Minas Tirith at Eomer King's request. He fears for her safety as these invaders have sought to kidnap Princess Eolyn," Aragorn said directly to Arwen, getting gasps from the ladies around her. But Arwen remained completely stoic, but there was a reaction.

"How barbarous! Surely you will make these heathens pay your majesty?!"one of the older ladies gawked out loud.

"I do, but these invaders come from beyond the Easterlings. Whether they come with their support or not is not known. But if you ladies have any loved ones that are assembling I would suggest that you go to them now. The army marches once assembled."

The crowd of ladies hesitated but bit by bit they all curtsied and left to say their farewells and those that didn't have anyone to farewell to took the hint that Aragorn wanted to be alone with his family. Once they were gone Aragorn turned to Arwen.

"What of us? If these men intended on kidnapping the Princess of Rohan, could they also have targeted your daughters?" Arwen asked.

"I don't think so, they are marching into Rohan and their reasoning to kidnap Eolyn was to provoke Eomer into rashly attacking them and drawing him into a trap. But I will double your personal guard and post extra watches at the Citadel."

"You will not take your own guard on campaign?" Averwen asked, "But who will protect you?"

"I have my bodyguard," Aragorn smiled, tapping Narsil which hung at his side ready and waiting, "Two companies of the Citadel Guards will be left along with the Fountain Guards. The other company will ride with the army."

Gallian finally put two and two together and now clung to Aragorn's neck fiercely, not wanting to let go.

"I'm going to miss you papa," the little princess whimpered.

"As will I little one," he whispered, giving her a firm hug as well as he took his other children into a hug as well, giving them each a tender kiss on the forehead, "Now keep up with your studies and lessons, stay with your guards and obey your mother."

He saw that each of them had the makings of tears welling up in their eyes as they all bravely fought them back as hard he himself had fought back the Orcs of Sauron. He saw his daughters not as the prim and proper princesses that everyone made them out to be, but strong and brave and beautiful, just like their mother. As he placed Gallian down he walked to Arwen whose expression was one of stoic elven calm and took her hands into his own.

"Our son is out there my love, bring him and yourself home and protect our friends. Promise this to me," Arwen said calmly and got a nod from Aragorn.

"I promise."

* * *

Rohan, the Wold

The morning had given way to early afternoon as the travelling party of four Hobbits, two Elves, a man, and a woman continued along the road west towards the interior of Rohan. They had made great progress in the night, clearing the forest an hour ago, and breaching the sprawling plains of Rohan which glistened a healthy light green off of the tall grasses with the occasional speck of wildflowers growing upwards to be found by the bees which hid their hives within the rocky outcroppings that were scattered about the hilly lands.

They'd gone off the road a while ago, going as close to a straight line as possible to make time and to stay away from where this invading army was sure to march. They knew that they would not outrun them in Stophen's big wagon driven by four large oxen. So Eolyn decided that they would have to outsmart their foes, so here they were, trekking along the vast low rolling hills of Rohan, with Eolyn seated next to Kapper who had taken the reins of the wagon while Stophen sat in the back, working on some of his potions that he claimed would deter their aggressive pursuers.

"Easy…easy…" he could be heard whispering to himself as sat back there, with two beakers in hand as he mixed the final components together, "Aha, got it."

"Got what?" Doro asked, from where he was seated on the tail gate next to William.

"My new defense potion. With this all I have to do now is fill those some beakers with one of both concoctions and then tie them together. Once that is done, I'll have an incendiary compound that will combust upon the two liquids mixing together," Stophen proudly exclaimed.

"You made a fire bomb," Eolyn surmised.

"Well…yes. It works, I've used it a couple of times for demonstrations and such. That's how I got kicked out of the Shire."

"What?" Eolyn said, spinning in her seat to look at them.

"No one got hurt I swear, it just burned down a couple of market stands and a garden that belonged to the mayor," Stophen defended hurriedly.

"I was the guard on duty that day which meant I was supposed to be the one keeping an eye on him, but obviously I failed, so I was kicked out," Peter said.

"Guard? I didn't think the Hobbits had an army," Holdiim said from where he was walking next to the wagon.

"Well we don't," Kapper replied.

"We have a militia that musters once every two months for training in Hobbiton," William said, "Thanks to the Dwarves we get to march around with properly sized spears, shields, mail, helmets, and swords for us Hobbits along with some bows that were gifted to us by the Silvan Elves before they left."

"Ah yes, there were four Hobbits with the Fellowship of the Ring, and one of the group was a Dwarf. And Elrond of Rivendell was fond of the Hobbits and for that his people gifted them. I was never aware of what they did though," Holdiim responded.

"Mister Holdiim," Doro asked as he poked his head around to speak with the elven archer.

"Yes Master Doro," he replied kindly as he slowed his pace to come up next to the Hobbit.

"I heard that you Elves are all immortal and like a thousand years old. Is that true? Are you a thousand years old?"

"No, it has been eight hundred and sixty years winters since my brother and I joined this world."

"Wow, eight hundred, you hear that Peter, eight hundred," Doro said in awe of the age of that Elf, "You look good for eight hundred."

"We are being followed!" the voice of Holdiir called out from behind the wagon where he was standing as their look out, "Thirty-five black riders are following our trail. They will reach us by nightfall."

"What'll we do? We can't exactly outrun them in a wagon," William said.

"Eolyn, you must go. If these men catch you it will spell great pain for the king as well as your betrothed.

"I'm not worried about my 'betrothed' and I will not be caught like some rabbit. We will fight them, I know this country, and I know where we can make a stand," Eolyn declared.

"Eolyn we cannot fight thirty-five deadly warriors. For the sake of your country you must continue on to Edoras, or until you find a patrol of Rohirrim who can protect you better than us," Stophen said.

"If I left knowing that I was dooming you all I could never forgive myself, you have saved me from captivity and probably death. I am honor bound to return this courage, I will not abandon you."

"Milady, please. You must ride, these men may not care for a lost wagon and a few Hobbits and leave them be," Holdiir responded.

"What if they care enough to kill you out of sport? Or to make certain that you do not spread word of their presence? My decision is final," Eolyn said standing up and making sure she was clear, much to the discontent of the others. But Peter was glad.

"Well, one more sword arm is better than one less," he said with a rare smile.

"Alright, we should make to that hill there, I've camped there several times during my survival training with my father. It is covered in boulders and there is only one safe way up that horses can pass. It is perfect for defense," Eolyn stated, "Holdiir do you see it?"

The sight gifted Elf stood upon a rock and looked out and pointed, "Yes, it is not far, we can reach it if we make haste."

"Then let us," Stophen responded, stepping over into the seat taking Kapper's spot at the controls and loudly urge his oxen forward as Eolyn stepped off into the saddle of her horse and began trotting alongside it as the strong and powerful oxen pulled the large wagon at quite a clip with the urging of their driver. Meanwhile Holdiir and Holdiim both jumped into the back of the wagon now with bows drawn.

Eolyn rode up onto a rise and tried peering out to look in the direction of their pursuers and could just barely make out a tiny blot in the distance that may have been dust rising from a decent number of horses but it was hard to tell. She didn't have the eyes of an Elf. But she knew that she was able to take Holdiir's word for it. So as the wagon passed her she continued galloping alongside it. She began thinking of reconsidering, knowing that she was without her sword thanks in large part to the bandits who'd captured her last night. But thanks to Stophen she was probably able to throw his fire bombs at their pursuers and that would work just fine for her until she might be able to take a sword from one of the men following them.

From there, Eolyn felt a brash confidence in her ability to defend not only herself but her friends as well. Her father had taught her well, and even had gone so far as to have a private swordsmanship teacher train her in the way of the sword. She loved those times, she could have been anyone, a rider of the Rohirrim, a Marshal of the Mark, the Captain-General of Rohan. Anything was a possibility when she felt the heft of a good sword firmly in her grasp. Right now, she needed that feeling, and soon.

* * *

Rohan, the Wold (Several miles behind)

The constant galloping was getting tiresome, but no one had complained. With Eldarion leading the way the three Princes and three Dwarves had finally reached the edge of the forest where they could now see the sprawling land of the Wold in northeast Rohan. Eoden had been glad to get into a land that he knew well, and had taken the lead as this was his land and the land of his father. The sun was now beaming down upon them and their horses, which were still rearing to go and were loving the running pace they were going at. Their riders actually were in worse shape than them.

But the smaller ponies that the Dwarves rode were not having such an easy time with it all. They were riding ambling horses, which could amble on and on and on for as long as their riders could stand. But galloping was a rather different item for these tough little horses. However only once did the Dwarves need to slow down to allow their horses to give their horses a break. But now that they were out into open country Eoden really wanted to turn his own steed loose to make up ground. However they now had to slow down, so that they could follow the trail which was no longer an easy road with easy to see hoof prints and the occasional wagon wheel marks. So Borothir was riding right alongside of the young Rohan Prince to keep them on the right trail as they made their way up to a high saddle ridge that would give them a long look over the plains.

"Look!" Borothir said, as their got to it while Eldarion rode up with the Dwarves on their horses.

"I see it," Eoden breathed, "What do you make of it?"

"I think we've found our riders. But no sign of a wagon."

"They're all dressed in black, that's not good," Eoden said as the Dwarves came to halt next to him.

"Who's dressed in black?" Gondo asked.

"Our riders, there," Borothir replied pointing at them.

"All I see is grass, rocks and a dust cloud," Furdi grumbled.

"That's them alright," Eldarion said, "Let's catch 'em before they catch Eolyn."

Just like that the three men took off at a gallop leaving the Dwarves to grumble at the nonstop chase.

"Don't worry there Purdi, we'll be stopping soon. Just as soon as these lads have caught up to our quarry," Aiden said as he patted his tired horse's mane.

So the three Dwarves galloped off to follow the three men who were now a good twenty yards out in front of them. Ever since they'd found their first sign of Eolyn the three of them had been completely single minded in how fierce they'd pursued the signs of their quarry. Eoden and Borothir in particular had been especially grim and not very talkative for good reason. The object of this quest was far dearer to them than to anyone else, Eolyn was their own blood, she was family. But the Dwarves didn't know that Eolyn was also Eldarion's betrothed, and he too felt a strong compelling force driving him to find and keep her from harm at all costs.

He'd never really thought about what lay in store for he and Eolyn after all this was over and they were able to finally come together and speak freely about being betrothed to one another. He remembered that night and remembered the feeling that had coursed through him as he found out that he was to be married to Eolyn. It was not a pleasant one, especially considering that he and her had engaged in a rather heated debate that would have resulted in blows being exchanged if she had been a man. He'd not had even the slightest bit of warning, and neither did she. He'd been able to hide his shock and confusion better than she had during that long night as they'd been assailed by many nobles and royals asking such simple and innocent items as dresses, wedding locations, honeymoon locations, and children's names. He'd tried his best to simply say that he didn't really know and that the wedding's particulars were really up to Eolyn and their mothers. He'd gotten a rather annoyed glance or two from Eolyn because of that along with a few other things he'd tried answering that ended up sounding a little forced and illogical. But what else was he to say or think? His father had just married him off, and to someone he didn't know on top of that.

Of course he'd seen her a few times growing up as a young child and right at her own cusp of womanhood as she was beginning to blossom and remembered seeing her once and thinking her quite pretty. But he'd never really had a conversation with the girl. Not until that night when he and her had walked around the Citadel a little bit and they both probably remembered how well that had worked. All in all, Eldarion had no clue as to where to proceed with his and Eolyn's future together once they'd caught up to her. He couldn't ask for a cancellation of the marriage. As much as both he and her would like it that was just not an option. Word would spread and both of them would begin to have some rather unbecoming things said about them as to why they'd called off the wedding. Her honor would be called into question and as would his. For him that was not a price to be paid, he couldn't have her go through life with that kind of painful gossip, even if her father had the power to rip the tongues from anyone who uttered such a thing, and Eldarion didn't want to have to go about doing that himself and have the stigma of having broken off a marriage plaguing his own future love life. So he'd decided almost without thinking about it that he was going to at least try to make things work out, the only thing was would she be thinking the same thing.

He could only hope that she was alive to think anything because deep in his gut he felt that something more was happening than an unknown band of men pursuing a Rohan Princess. Eldarion could sense it, as he usually tended to do. It was a sense that had never failed him before, a sense that his mother had said came from his Elven blood from her, who was Half Elven, which made him a full fourth Elf. It wasn't all that common for someone who was a fourth Elf to have such gifts as foresight, memory, eternal life, or even fantastic sight. But it was enough for him to get a nagging feeling when something was going to happen. It could have been anything, from an apple falling on his head to an invasion like the one he had felt happening three years ago when the Easterlings had invaded the Brown Lands and began advancing towards Cair Andros. But once the full might of Gondor had been assembled and marched to meet the invaders the Easterlings had disappeared into the vast empty stretches of their homelands. But this feeling of premonition was stronger than any he had ever felt in his life. Yet for all its strength Eldarion could not tell what it was that could have been causing it. However, he chose that it must have meant something was going to happen when they caught up with Eolyn, he couldn't have been more wrong.

 **Next Chapter Preview: The battle is joined. Elves, Dwarves, Men and Hobbits shall fight together once more.**


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